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PICTORIAL LIFE 



GEORGE WASHINGTON: 



EMU It A C I X a 



A COMPLETE HISTORY 



THE SEVEN YEARS' WAR, THE REVOLUTIONARY WAR, THE 

FORMATION OF THE FEDERAL CONSTITUTION. AND 

THE ADMINISTRATION OF WASHINGTON. 



BY J. FROST, LL.D. 

AUTHOR OF "PICTORIAL HISTORY OF THE WORLD," ETC. 



WITH UPWARDS OF ONE HUNDRED ENGRAVINGS. 
BY CROOME & DEVEREUX. 




PHILADELPHIA: 
CHARLES J. GILLIS, 46i WALNUT STREET. 

STEREOTYPED BY L. JOHNSON & CO. 

1847. 






WASUiNGIONlACiA 



Entered according to act of Congress, in the year 1847, by 

L. JOHNSON, 

11 the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the Eastern District of Pennsylvania. 



Printed by T. K. & P. G. Collins. 




Washington was so completely a public man, that 
his biography is necessarily a history of the period 
in which he lived. In compiling the following nar- 
rative I have, therefore, endeavoured not only to bring 
into view the transactions in which he was personally 
concerned, but all those contemporary events which 
were of sufficient importance to deserve attention in a 
general history of the period. The volume will, con- 
sequently, if I have succeeded in my design, present a 
history of Washington and his times. 

The authorities on which I have chiefly relied, be- 
sides the biographies of Washington by Ramsay, Mar- 
shall, Paulding, Sparks, and others, are the general 
histories of the Revolution by Ramsay, Gordon, Allen, 
Botta, and others; the correspondence of Washington 

and his cotemporaries, state papers and documents, and 

3 



4 PREFACE. 

a history of the United States, entitled the Western 
World. In using these authorities I have not hesi- 
tated to adopt their phraseology, where it was not too 
diffuse for a work of so limited extent as the present. 
This general acknowledgment, and the frequent refer- 
ences in the foot notes, are considered sufficient to 
enable the reader to recognise the grounds. of authen- 
ticity upon which the narrative rests. 

My thanks are due to many literary friends for the 
assistance they have rendered me in the present under- 
taking ; and in particular to Dr. Thomas R. Maris, 
for the obliging loan of the sketch by Volozan, from 
which Mr. Croome's drawing was made for the full- 
length portrait of Washington ; and to my accom- 
plished friend, Mr. J. Russel Smith, for the use of his 
original sketches of Braddock's Field, and the scenery 
in the neighbourhood of Mount Vernon. 

Whoever has occasion to examine carefully into the 
history of the period in which Washington lived, will 
find his reverence for the character of that illustrious 
man always increasing. The more intimately one be- 
comes acquainted with the facts, the more firmly he 
becomes convinced that Washington was, throughout 
the whole forming period of the republic, the grand 
moving power. Every thing seems to have depended 
on him. The leaders of popular opinion looked to 
him for advice; the Congress for direction. While 
the war was raging he guided every movement, re- 



PREFACE. 5 

pressed all discontent, infused the breath of life into 
inert masses, and created the means of efficient war- 
fare. When the war was ended, and a new form of 
government became necessary, he guided the delibera- 
tions on which it was founded. When its strength and 
efficiency were to be tested by experiment, the sove- 
reign power was placed in his hands, which steered the 
new ship of the state through the most perilous storms, 
and conducted her into the secure haven of national 
prosperity. He was present in every creative move- 
ment. The impress of his mind is stamped upon every 
great national institution. Never did any great bene- 
factor of mankind more faithfully earn his titles, than 
the Father of his Country — the Founder of the 
Republic. 




a2 




CHAPTER I. 
Early Life Page 13 

CHAPTER II. 
Washington a Surveyor 42 



CHAPTER III. 

Commencement of the Seven Years' War , . 



50 



CHAPTER IV. 

Campaign against Fort Duquesne 66 

CHAPTER V. 

Northern Campaign — Battle of Lake George 87 

CHAPTER VL 

Border War — Fall of Fort Duquesne 92 

CHAPTER VII. 
Conquest of Canada 107 

CHAPTER VIII. 
Marriage of Washington 114 

CHAPTER IX. 
Opening of the Revolution 123 



CHAPTER X. 

The Second Continental Congress 179 



8 CONTENTS. 

CHAPTER XL 
Battle of Bunker Hill 192 

CHAPTER XII. 
Invasion of Canada 19G 

CHAPTER XIII. 

Siege and Evacuation of Boston 204 

CHAPTER XIV. 
Cajupaign of 1776 227 

CHAPTER XV. 
Campaign of 1777 276 " 

CHAPTER XVI. 
Campaign of 1778 323 

CHAPTER XVII. 
Campaign of 1779 354 

CHAPTER XVIII. 
Campaign of 1780 373 

CHAPTER XIX. 
Campaign of 1781 398 

CHAPTER XX. 
Close of the War 449 

CHAPTER XXI. 

Washington in Private Life — Formation of the Federal Constitution . 472 

CHAPTER XXIL 

Administration of Washington — First Term 495 

CHAPTER XXIII. 

Administration of Washington — Second Term . •. 542 

CHAPTER XXIV. 
Last Days of Washington 560 

APPENDIX 575 




PAOS 

3- 
5- 

7- 
9- 
IS- 
IS- 

16- 
23- 
41- 
42- 

43- 
44- 
^ 45- 
48- 
49- 
50- 

.52- 
53- 

56- 

til- 
Co- 
66- 

70- 
72- 
75- 
76- 



PAINTER. 

•Ornamental Head-Piece G. T. Devereux- 

■Tail-Piece " " 

• Ornamental Head-Piece " " 



BNOEAVBR. 

•G. T. Devereux. 



■ Tanacharison G. T. Devereux- 

Expedition to the French Posts W. Croome 

• Grenadier G. T. Devereux - 

-Magazine of Fort Duquesne " " 

•Initial Letter " " 



•Franklin " 

•Initial Letter " 

2 



•H. Bricher. 



-Tail-Piece " « " " 

•Bust of Washington W. Croome " " 

• Initial Letter G. T. Devereux G. T. Devereux. 

•Birth-Place of AVashington " " H. Bricher. 

-AVashington a Peace-maker W. Croome G. T. Devereux. 

•Tail-Piece G. T. Devereux " " 

•Carthagena " " " " 

•Initial Letter " '•' " " 

•Admiral Vernon " " " " 

•Washington and his Mother AV. Croome " " 

• AA^'ashington a Surveyor G. T. Devereux " " 

•Voyage to Barbadoes " " 

• Tail-Piece W. Croome " " 

■AVashington writing his Journal " " " •'' 

• Washington and Mr. Gist " " B. F. AVaitt. 

• Initial Letter " 



•H. Bricher. 
•G. T. Devereux. 



10 



ILLUSTRATIONS. 



PAGE 

79 
80 
83 
86 
87 
87 
91 
02 
92 

101 

103 

106 

107 

107 

109 

112 

113 

114 

115 

122 

123 

123 

160 

164 

166 

167 

169 

178 

179 

179 

181 

1*5 

1^9 

191 

192 

192 

196 

196 

203 

204 

204 

214 

224 

226 

227 

227 

230 



PilHTER. BNGRAVF^ 

•Initial Letter G. T. Devereux H. Brlcher. 

■ Battle Ground W. T. Russell Smith " " 

•Battle of the Monongahela W. Croome " '- 

-Burial of Braddock AV. Croome " " 

•Lake George G. T. Devereux G. T. Devereux. 

•Initial I/etter " " '■ " 

•Provincial Soldier AV. Croome " " 

• Indian AVarfare " " " " 

•Initial Letter G. T. Devereux " " 

•Loudoun ■■ •• " " 

•Block-House at Fort Duquesne Russel Smith -• " " 

•British Infantry " " " " 

•Fort Ticonderoga G. T. Devereux " " 

• Initial Letter " •' " " 

•Amherst " " " " 

• General Townshend " " " " 

•Tailpiece '• " " " 

•Church at Alexandria ■■ -G. T. Devereux " " 

•Initial Letter " '• " " 

•Tail-Piece From a French Print " " 

•George Grenville From an English Print -H. Bricher. 

•Initial Letter From a French Print ••■G. T. Devereux. 

•Jay G. T. Devereux " " 

•Initial Letter " « " " 



■Earl of Chatham 

Initial Letter " " 

British Infantry " " 

State-House G. T. Devereux 

Initial Letter " " 



From a French Print • • •!!. Bricher. 
" " " • ^-G. T. Devereux. 



•From a Print " 



H. Bricher. 



British Troops " " 

AVarren G. T. Devereux- • • • 

■'Initial Letter " •' 

•Carlelon « « .... 

•Initial Letter " « <i u 

•General Montgomery " " ii « 

■Head Quarters at Cambridge " " " i: 

•Initial Letter " " « « 

■Highland Officer " " « a 

-Tail-Piece « -i ii ii 

■'New York in 1776 From a Print " " 

-Battle-Ground of Yorktown '■ " G. T. Devereux. 

•Defence of Fort Moultrie G. T. Devereux " " 

•Moultrie Brown " " 



ILLUSTRATIONS. 



11 



PAQS 

253-- 
255- • 
265- • 
271- . 
276-- 
276-- 
291.. 
293- - • 
298-. 
309- •■ 
312- • • 
322- - • 
323 •• 
323 •• 
341- • • 
350- • • 
353- • • 
354.. 
354-. • 
373- • • 
373- ■• 
3S4-- 
392- • ■ 
395- ■ • 
397- •• 
398- ■■ 
398- • • 
405. . • 
411... 
413- • • 
417- • ■ 
435- • • 
443 •• 
448■■• 
449•■■ 
449- ■■ 
471... 
472- • • 
472- • . 
473 •■- 
492. • • 
494... 
495- . . 
495... 
512. . • 
537... 
541. •• 



FAINTER 

Initial Letter From aPrint-. 



ZNQRAVER. 

•G. T. Devereux. 



• -Crossing of the Delaware W. Croome H. Bricher. 

■ -Battle of Princeton " " " " 

■-Head-Quarters at Morristown G. T. Devereux " " 

-Initial Letter " " " " 

-Head-Quarters at Brandywine " " G. T. Devereux. 

-Battle of Brandyvi^ine W. Croome H. Bricher. 

-Mr. Chew's House G. T. Devereux G. T. Devereux. 

-General Schuyler " " " " 

• Saratoga Lake From a Print B. F. Waitt. 

• Head-Quarters at Valley Forge G. T. Devereux G. T. Devereux. 

-Monmouth Battle-Ground " " " " 

-Initial Letter W. Croome " " 

• Washington at Monmouth " " " " 

-Valley of Wyoming G. T. Devereux " 

-Captain Biddle Brown " " 

-General Wayne G. T. Devereux " " 

-Initial Letter " " " " 

-General Lincoln " '■ " " 

• Initial Letter From a Print " " 

•Bank " " " « 

• Initial Letter " " " ' 

• Pickens G. T. Devereux " " 

■ General Gates " " « " 

• Kosciusko W. Croome S. F. Baker. 

•Initial Letter From a Print G. T. Devereux. 

•Siege of Ninety-Six " " H. Bricher. 

•Initial Letter " " " " 



•Arnold's Descent on Virginia " " " " 

•Battle-Ground of Yorktown " " " " 

■Surrender of Cornwallis W. Croome " " 

•Lee G. T. Devereux G. T. Devereux. 

■ General Greene " " " " 

Initial Letter " " " " 

Colonel Washington " " " " 

Madison " " " " 

Initial Letter " " " " 

View of Mount Vernon Russell Smith " " 

Tail-Piece G. T. Devereux " " 

Portrait of AVashington AV. Croome " " 

Hamilton " " " " 

Initial Letter " " " " 

Treaty From a Prussian Print ••H. Bricher. 

Initial Letter G. T. Devereux « " 

Tail-Piece • " " " « 



12 



ILLUSTRATIONS. 



p^OB PilNTER. EUaRAVER. 

542 Portrait of Washin^on W. Croome H. Bricher. 

542 Initial Letter G. T. Devereux G. T. Devereux. 

547 Monroe " 

553 Pickering " 

559- • ..Tail-Piece " 

560 New Tomb of Washington " 

560 Initial Letter " 

561 Suramer-House at Mt. Vernon Russell Smith- 

667 Old Tomb From a Print- 





CHAPTER I. 



HEN in the progress of the world's affairs, 
a great work is to be accomplished, the 
k reformation of religion, the discovery of a 
1^ new world, the subjection of barbarous 
nations to the mild sway of civilization, 
the resistance of political oppression, or 
the founding of a great republic, it appears 
to be the order of Divine Providence to raise 
up and prepare a great man for effecting the object. Such a man was 
George Washington. He was the chosen instrument for laying 
the foundations of the republic on whose prosperity and perpetuity 
the hopes of human freedom rest. Born and educated in the ranks 

B 13 




14 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

of the people, early trained to the endurance of hardship, endowed 
with extraordinary courage, circumspection, foresight and self- 
reliance, he found himself placed, by the suffrages of his fellow- 
citizens, at the head of that grand movement which was to detach 
his country from her state of colonial dependence, and render 
her the noblest empire of modern times ; and having by deliberate 
examination convinced himself of the justice of her cause, he 
devoted his whole life to the great work which he had been raised 
up to accomplish, the successful assertion of her independence 
and the complete organization of her free institutions. No man 
was ever charged with a higher mission. None ever performed 
his mission with more complete success. Every step in the 
onward march of the republic affords a new proof of the great- 
ness of its founder. Our future glories can never exceed the 
grandeur of his conceptions ; for we have only to examine his 
actions and his writings in order to see that he anticipated all — 
believed all — provided for all — and that he laid the foundations 
deep enough, broad enough, to sustain any superstructure of 
national greatness that can ever be raised upon them. 

As our country advances in prosperity and power, it becomes 
more and more interesting and important for us to recur to those 
trying times in which its institutions were formed, and its liberties 
defended; and to recognise in the exalted character of its ac- 
knowledged Father, the elements of its greatness and strength. 
The life of Washington has already furnished a subject for some 
of the most distinguished writers in America; but it still offers a 
fertile theme ; it presents new aspects as the country continues to 
fulfil the destinies which he foresaw; it is hoped and believed, 
therefore, that a new attempt to recount the actions of his life, to 
recommend his virtues to the imitation of his countrymen, and to 
enforce his principles of conduct in public and private life, may 
be regarded with indulgence, even though this attempt should be 
supported by little more than a sincere reverence for his charactei 
and an earnest desire to do justice to his merits. 

Many of the most illustrious benefactors of mankind have been 
not less remarkable for the obscurity of their origin than for the 
greatness of their destiny ; but Washington sprung from a family 
whose name had already become known to history. Mr. Sparks 
has traced his ancestry back to the thirteenth century, and has 
recognised the name in the local records of the county histories 
as belonging to men of ample fortunes and respectable characters. 
Sir Henry Washington was a colonel in the army of Charles I. 



WASHINGTON'S ANCESTORS. 15 

and his good conduct at the capture of Bristol, in 1643, is noticed 
by Clarendon. Hume, in his account of the same event, (as quoted 
by Paulding,) has the following passage: — "One party, led by 
Lord Grandison, was beaten off, and its commander mortally 
wounded. Another, conducted by Lord Bellasis, met with a like 
fate. But Washington, with a less party, finding a place in the 
curtain weaker than the rest, broke in, and quickly made room 
for the horse to follow." He was afterwards governor of Wor- 
cester, and defended the place bravely for three months against 
the parliamentary forces. Two uncles of this Colonel Washington, 
John and Lawrence Washington, emigrated to Virginia about the 
year 1657, and settled at Bridge's^Creek, afterwards called Pope's 
Creek, on the Potomac River, in the county of Westmoreland. 
John married Anne Pope of the same county, and gave his name 
to the parish in which he lived. He served as lieutenant-colonel 
in the wars against the Indians. He had two sons, Lawrence 
and John, and a daughter, Ann. To Lawrence Washington, the 
elder son, he bequeathed, the estate on which he lived, then called 
the Pope's Creek Farm. 

Lawrence Washington married Mildred Warner, daughter of 
Colonel Augustine Warner, by whom he had two sons, John and 
Augustine, and a daughter, Mildred. 

Augustine Washington, the second son of Lawrence, was twice 
married. By his first wife, Jane Butler, he had four children, 
Butler, Lawrence, Augustine and Jane. Of these, Butler and 
Jane died in infancy. Lawrence and Augustine attained to man- 
hood. His second wife was Mary Ball, a young lady of fortune, 
from one of the first families in Virginia. To her he was married 
on the 6th of March, 1730, being then in his thirty-seventh year. 
Of this union George was the first fruit. He was the eldest of 
six children, by the second marriage of his father, viz. : George, 
Betty, Samuel, John Augustine, Charles, and Mildred. Mildred 
died when sixteen months old. 

George Washington was born in the parish of Washington, 
W^estmoreland county, Virginia, on the 22d of February, 1732, 
being the great-grandson of John Washington, the founder of the 
family in America. The house in which he was born stood on 
Pope's Creek, about half a mile from the Potomac; but it was 
either burned or pulled down some time before the commence- 
ment of the Revolution. Its site is now designated by a stone, 
placed there by Mr. Custis, bearing this inscription — "Here on 



16 



LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 




THE BIHTHPLACB OF ■WASHINOTON. 



the 11th of February, (Old Style) 1732, George Washington 
was born." Mr. Paulding thus describes the place: 

«<A few scanty relics alone remain to mark the spot, which will 
ever be sacred in the eyes of posterity. A clump of old decayed 
fig trees, probably coeval with the mansion, yet exists; and a 
number of vines, and shrubs, and flowers still reproduce them- 
selves every year, as if to mark its site, and flourish among the 
hallowed ruins. The spot is of the deepest interest, not only 
from its associations, but its natural beauties. It commands a 
view of the Maryland shore of the Potomac, one of the most 
majestic of rivers, and of its course for many miles towards the 
Chesapeake Bay. An aged gentleman, still living in the neigh- 
borhood, remembers the house in which Washington was born. 
It was a low-pitched, single-storied, frame building, with four 
rooms on the first floor, and an enormous chimney at each end 
on the outside. This was the style of the better sort of houses 
in those, days, and they are still occasionally seen in the old set- 
tlements of Virginia."* 

Washington's parents were members of the Episcopal Church, 
the prevailing form of religion at that time in Virginia; and, ac- 
cording to its forms, he was baptized on the 16th of April, 1732. 
His early instruction appears to have been of a religious, but by 

• Paulding's Life of Washington. 



HIS EARLY TRAINING. 17 

no means of a bigoted or ascetic character. That his father was 
extremely anxious to imbue his mind with the love of truth, has 
been illustrated by several anecdotes ; and that he was successful 
is evident, not less in the conduct of George's youth, than in the 
frankness of his political course, when, as President of the United 
States, he insisted on sincerity in all the diplomatic declarations 
of his public envoys. 

From the indications which we have of George's earliest 
studies, the books presented to him by his father must have been 
carefully chosen with reference to their moral and religious ten- 
dency. The direction thus given to young aspirations, was to- 
wards that elevated character which his subsequent life exhibited ; 
and the fact should not escape the attention of those parents who 
are desirous to train up their children in the paths of virtue and 
honour. "The child is father of the man." The moral tenden- 
cies, good or bad, of childhood, are seldom eradicated in after 
life. It is with this conviction, and at the risk perhaps of being 
considered as detracting from the dignity of our subject, that we 
give some incidents of Washington's life, which illustrate his 
father's system of early training. 

Mr. Weems, the Rector of Mount Vernon parish, relates the 
following anecdote of an old lady who had spent many years of 
her youthful days in the Washington family. 

"On a fine morning in the fall of 1737, Mr. Washington, hav- 
ing little George by the hand, came to the door and asked my 
cousin Washington and myself to walk with him to the orchard, 
promising he would show us a fine sight. On arriving at the 
orchard we were presented with a fine sight indeed. The whole 
earth, as far as we could see, was strewed with fruit, and yet the 
trees were bending under the weight of apples, which hung in 
clusters like grapes, and vainly strove to hide their blushing- 
cheeks behind the green leaves. <Now, George,' said his father, 
'look here, my son! Don't you remember when this good cousin 
of yours brought you that fine large apple last spring, how hardly 
I could prevail on you to divide with your brothers and sisters, 
though I promised you that if you would but do it, the Almighty 
would give you plenty of apples this fall?' Poor George could 
not say a word, but hanging down his head, looked quite con- 
fused, while, with his little naked toes, he scratched the soft 
ground. 'Now look up, my son,' continued his father, 'look up 
George, and see there, how richly the Almighty has made good 
my promise to you! Wherever you turn your eyes, you see the 
3 „9 



18 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

trees loaded with fine fi-uit; many of them, indeed, breaking 
down, while the ground is covered with mellow apples, more than 
you could ever eat, my son, in your lifetime.' George looked 
in silence on the wide wilderness of fruit ; then lifting his eyes, 
filled with shining moisture, to his father, he softly said, 'Well, 
pa, only forgive me this time, see if I ever be so stingy any 
more.' " 

It was also the purpose of Mr. Washington to create in his 
son an early love of truth, and an abhorrence of every thing like 
deception. He often talked with him on this subject, and that his 
lectures were not wasted, but sown on good ground, is evident 
from the following anecdote, which rests on the same authority 
as the one recorded above. 

"When George was about six years old, he became the happy 
owner of a hatchet, of which, like most little boys, he was immo- 
derately fond, and was constantly going about chopping every thing 
that came in his way. One day in the garden, where he often 
amused himself, he unluckily tried the edge of his hatchet on the 
body of a beautiful young English cherry-tree, which he barked 
so terribly, that I believe the tree never got the better of it. The 
next morning, the old gentleman, finding out what had befallen his 
tree, which, by-the-by, was a great favourite with him, came into 
the house, and with much warmth asked for the mischievous 
author, declaring at the same time, that he would not have taken 
five guineas for his tree. Nobody could tell him any thing about 
it. Presently George and his hatchet made their appearance. 
'George,' said his father, 'do you know who killed that beautiful 
little cherry-tree yonder in the garden?' George was taken by 
surprise, and for a moment staggered under the question; but he 
quickly recovered himself, and looking at his father with the 
sweet face of youth brightened with the inexpressible charm of 
all-conquering truth, he bravely cried out, 'I can't tell a lie, pa, 
you know I can't tell a lie ; I cut it with my hatchet.' 'Run to 
my arms, my dearest boy,' cried the delighted father, 'run to my 
arms. Glad am I, George, that you killed the tree, for you have 
paid me for it a thousand fold! Such an act of heroism in my 
son, is worth more than a thousand trees, though their blossoms 
were silver and their fruits the purest gold.' " Such lessons, 
communicated in such a way, it is not easy to eradicate. 

At an early age George was sent to a school kept by a man 
named Hobby, who not only exercised the responsible functions 
of schoolmaster, but also those of sexton and grave-digger to the 



DEATH OF HIS FATHER. 19 

parish of Washington, Accomplished teachers were not so 
common in those days as at present ; and the practice which pre- 
vailed before the Revolution, of sending boys to England to be 
educated, was by no means favourable to the encouragement 
of good schools in the colonies. George's first schoolmaster 
appears to have been one of the humblest pretensions; and he 
was soon surpassed by his pupil. The old man lived, it is 
said, to see Washington in the meridian of his glory, and in 
his latter days he used to boast with a pardonable complacency, 
that <'it was he who laid the foundation of George Washington's 
greatness." 

When George was about seven years old, his father removed 
from his farm on Pope's Creek, to another owned by him in Staf- 
ford county, on the eastern side of the Rappaliannoc river, 
directly opposite Fredericksburg. There he lived till the 12th 
of April, 1743, when he died, afier a short illness, at the age of 
forty-nine years. 

Mr. Washington was taken sick during the Easter holidays, 
when George was absent on a visit to some of his acquaintances 
in Chotanct, King George's County. As soon as his sickness 
became serious, George was sent for, and he arrived in time to 
receive the parting, though silent blessing of his beloved parent. 
His father was speechless when he arrived, and the parting be- 
tween them was extremely affecting. The moment he alighted, 
he ran into the chamber in which his father lay expiring; but 
who can paint the feelings that darted through his mind, as he 
beheld the change before him ! Those eyes, lately so loving and 
bright, now robbed of all their lustre, were fixed on him from the 
depths of their sunken sockets ; and, through swelling tears, in 
mute, but melting language, seemed to bid him a last farewell. 
With sobs and cries, he fell upon his father's neck, kissed him 
many times, and bathed his cold, pale face, with tears. 

Though in the death of his father, George lost his best friend, 
his more immediate and hourly adviser, yet the event seems to 
have been consecrated to his good, by strengthening in his heart 
and memory the salutary lessons which that friend had taken so 
much care early to inculcate. It also threw him more into the 
society of his excellent mother, who completed the moral training 
which we have seen so happily commenced by his father. 

Mr. Washington left to each of his sons a separate plantation. 
To Lawrence, the eldest, he bequeathed an estate near Hunting 
Creek, afterwards called Mount Vernon, and shares in productive 



20 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

iron works, situated in various parts of Virginia and Maryland. 
To Augustine, the second son, he left an estate in Westmoreland 
County. To George, the lands and mansion in Stafford County, 
where his father died; and to each of his other sons an estate of 
six or seven hundred acres. Betty, his only surviving daughter, 
was handsomely provided for; and everything was placed in the 
hands of Mrs. Washington, until her children should respectively 
become of age.* Thus was George Washington, at the early age 
of eleven years, left to the guardianship of his mother. 

Well did Mrs. Washington fulfil her trust. It is impossible for 
the human race to estimate the debt which they owe her for the 
manner in which she trained the young hero. Mrs. Mary Wash- 
ington has been described by those who were intimately ac- 
quainted with her, as being of the ordinary stature, and possess- 
ing great personal beauty; indeed, her beauty was so great that 
she was known throughout the colony as "the belle of the Northern 
Neck." She was high-spirited, and possessed uncommon strength 
of mind and decision of character, coupled with great simplicity 
of manners. Washington's inflexible regard to the performance 
of the minute duties of life, on which the happiness of himself 
and all who were connected with him depended; and his strict 
punctuality in keeping his word, and discharging all the obliga- 
tions of justice, may be traced back to the early influence and 
example of his mother. She was remarkable for her truth of 
purpose, her hospitality, and for all those domestic habits and qua- 
lities which are so much more becoming to women than the most 
fashionable accomplishments of the present day. She was dis- 
tinguished for her good sense, the control which she exercised 
over her children, her great and exemplary piety ; and she was 
well calculated to complete that work which her husband had 
commenced, the religious training of her offspring. She had 
always, no doubt, united cordially with him in his attempt to 
"bring up her children in the nurture and admonition of the 
Lord;" but now the whole burden falling upon her, the fidelity 
with which she exercised her trust, and her fitness for the delicate 
office, approved by her success, stand out in bolder characters. 
Of the harmony of sentiment existing in this respect between her 
and Mr. Washington, and of the high estimate in which she held 
the virtue of truth, let the following incident, resting on undoubted 
authority, bear witness. 

Mrs. Washington was at all times fond of fine horses. Shortly 

* Sparks's Life of Washington. 



ANECDOTE OF THE COLT. 21 

after the death of her husband she owned a colt, which, on ac- 
count of its many fine qualities, was a particular favourite, and 
had never been broken to the saddle, though it was old enough 
to have been broken long before. George had frequently ad- 
mired this colt, as it pranced around the field, proudly snuffing 
up the air, wheeling and halting, and displaying its fine propor- 
tions, and more than once he wished that he was upon its back. 
It happened one day, that he told his wishes to some of his com- 
panions, and engaged them to meet him early the next morning, 
when, with their assistance, he would have a ride. Accordingly, 
the little party assembled the following day, soon after sunrise, and 
repaired to the field where the young Arabian was kept, at no 
great distance from the house. With some effort they contrived 
to pen him, and with still more effort to put a bridle upon him. 
Several took hold of the bridle, while the athletic youngster, with 
a single leap, vaulted upon his back. The necessary conse- 
quences of such an undertaking now took place. A desperate 
struggle followed between the horse and his rider. For a long 
time, the contest continued doubtful, till at length in the fury of 
his plunges, the noble animal falling headlong, burst a blood- 
vessel, which produced almost instant death. By this fall, George 
received no injury. But it grieved him to see lying before him 
the lifeless body of the spirited animal, whose death he was now 
sensible had been occasioned by his censurable folly and rashness. 
His mother too, and her fondness for this animal, came crowd- 
ing upon him, to render his trouble still more distressing. Shortly 
after, a call to breakfast was heard. Some of the companions of 
George had been invited to breakfast with him that morning; and 
now, however much they might have desired to have been excused, 
they went in, and were soon seated at the table. For a time, little 
was said, less than usual. At length, Mrs. Washington, breaking the 
silence, inquired whether they had seen her fine sorrel colt in their 
rambles. To this none of the boys replied, and the question was 
repeated. There was now no escape. The case was to be met, 
and met at once. The integrity of George had been tried in still 
younger days; and now, that it was again tried, it nobly stood 
the test. He replied to the question put by his mother. <'Your 
sorrel colt is dead, mother." "Dead, George," exclaimed Mrs. 
Washington, with much surprise, "dead, do you say?" her hands 
relaxing from some service which she was performing at the 
table. "Yes, he is dead." "How happened it, Gfeorge?" "I 
will tell you, mother. I am the only one in fault." And then he 



22 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

proceeded to give her a circumstantial and correct account of the 
whole transaction. Before the story was ended, the flush, which 
had for a short time arisen upon the cheek of Mrs. Washington, 
an evidence of her displeasure, had all passed away, and in con- 
clusion, she observed, quite kindly and calmly: << While I regret 
the loss of my favourite, I rejoice in my son who always speaks the 
truth.'' 

Such was the mother of our great Washington. She daily 
laboured to teach her children the first principles of religion, as 
laid down and established in the Bible, and in the formularies of 
the Church of England, and to inculcate upon them the fear of 
God, and the strict observance of the moral virtues, such as truth, 
justice, charity, humility, temperance, and industry. In these 
laudable and pious efforts she was aided by the daily use of a 
volume with the title of ^^ Contemplations, Moral and Divine, by 
Sir Matthew Hale, Knight, late Chirf Justice of the King's Bench."" 
She made it her daily practice to read extracts from that book to 
her children. From her the book passed to George, but at what 
time is not known. It was found after his death, in his library at 
Mount Vernon, with his mother's name, "Mary Washington," 
written in it with her own hand, and is now in the possession of 
the owner of Mount Vernon. It bears the marks of having been 
much used, and particular chapters are designated by marks of 
reference. This book, filled with lessons of virtue and wisdom, 
clothed in the language of sincerity and truth, is the work of a 
pious and enlightened sage, whose whole life exemplified his pre- 
cepts; and without doubt it contributed much in forming the 
character of a man whose actions, great as they were, scarcely 
conferred greater benefit Upon his country than posterity is now 
deriving, and will always continue to derive, from his example. 
In contemplating this circumstance, we feel that a debt of grati- 
tude is due to the illustrious man who gave himself to the labour 
of writing such a book in the midst of the duties of his high office. 
Though he had been abundantly rewarded by the fruits which 
have been gathered from the good seed which he has sown, even 
if his work had been blessed in but this single instance, yet the 
debt of gratitude which America owes him can never, till the end 
of time, be fully paid. Neither should we forget what we owe to 
the mother of Washington, who stored the mind of her son with 
the inestimable wisdom contained in this book, and then gave it 
to him, to constitute, along with his Bible, "a light to his feet and 
a lamp to his path." 



WASHINGTON A PEACEMAKER. 



23 



She also had her reward : for she lived to see all her children fill- 
ing the stations allotted to them, with honor to themselves and her. 

A few months after the death of his father, George was sent to 
Westmoreland to reside with his half-brother, Augustine, princi- 
pally for the purpose of attending a respectable school in the 
neighbourhood, kept by Mr. Williams. While a pupil of Mr. Wil- 
liams, he maintained the good character which he had already 
gained. He soon acquired such a reputation for veracity, impar- 
tiality, and sound judgment, among his schoolmates, that he was 







WA.SHIKGTON A. PEACEMAKER. 



made umpire in all their disputes ; and his decision was almost 
always satisfactory. He never quarreled with any of them, nor 
would he consent to see them fight among themselves ; if he could 
prevent it in no other way, he would notify the teacher of their 
brutal design. For this the boys were often angry with him, but 
his reputation for courage and firmness, being as well founded 
as it was for veracity, he never received eitlier insult or injury. 
His companions, afterwards, when the anger of the moment had 
passed away, and their passions had time to cool, felt doubly 
grateful to him for preventing them from whipping each other; 
and their love for him was continually on the increase. He in- 
herited from his father great bodily strength and activity, and not 
only while at school, but long afterwards, did he delight in the 
sports which strengthen the frame and swell the muscles. It was 



24 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

a favourite amusement, during the hours of relaxation at Mr. Wil- 
liams's school, for the boys to divide themselves into two parties, 
which they dignified with the name of armies ; and calling the 
one French, and the other American ; with cornstalks for muskets, 
and calabashes for drums, they would form into line, and march 
and counter-march, and file off, or fight their harmless battles with 
great interest. George always led the American army, and there 
was no sport in which he so much delighted as training his young 
soldiers. 

But there was something besides playing to be done at Mr. 
Williams's school. That gentleman was an excellent teacher, and 
by him George was instructed in mathematics and in surveying. 
While studying these important branches of education, he kept a 
blank book in which he entered the examples in a fair round hand. 
These manuscripts have been preserved from the time of his 
thirteenth year. They occupy several quires of paper, and are 
remarkable for the care with which they were kept, the neatness 
of the handwriting, the clearness and beauty of the diagrams, 
and the precise method in which tables and columns of figures 
were copied.* They also contain what he calls Forms of Writing, 
such as notes of hand, bills of exchange, bonds, indentures, deeds, 
mortgages, wills, bills of sale, land warrants, leases, and receipts, 
written out with care. Then follow selections in rhyme, distin- 
guished for their religious character. But the most interesting 
and significant part of these books was that which he called 
Rules of Behaviour in Company and Conversation. This contained 
maxims or rules of conduct for the government of young persons, 
drawn from sources which are not known, and arranged with much 
care. W^e present the reader with a specimen of these rules, that 
it may be seen upon what principles certain parts of the character 
of Washington were formed. 

"1. Every action in company ought to be with some sign of 
respect to those present. 

"2. Be no flatterer. 

"3. Let your countenance be pleasant; but in serious matters, 
somewhat grave. 

"4. Show not yourself glad at the misfortune of another, though 
he were your enemy. 

<«5. When you meet wuth one of greater quality than yourself, 
stop and retire ; especially, if it be at a door, or any strait place, 
to give way for him to pass. 

• Sparks. 



WASHINGTON'S MAXIMS. 25 

«6. They that are in dignity or in office, have in all places 
precedency; but whilst they are young they ought to respect 
those that are their equals in birth, or other qualities, tliough they 
have no public charge. 

"7. It is good manners to prefer them to whom we speak be- 
fore ourselves ; especially, if they be above us, with whom in no 
sort we ought to begin. 

<<8, Let your discourse with men of business be short and 
comprehensive. 

"9. In writing, or speaking, give to every person his due title, 
according to his degree and the custom of the place. 

'< 10. Strive not with your superiors in argument, but always 
submit your judgment to others with modesty. 

"11. Undertake not to teach your equal in the art himself pro- 
fesses; it savours to arrogancy. 

"12. When a man does all he can, though it succeeds not 
well, blame not him that did it. 

«13. Being to advise, or reprehend any one, consider whether 
it ought to be done in public or in private, presently or at some 
other time, in what terms to do it; and in reproving, show no 
signs of choler, but do it with sweetness and mildness. 

"14. Take all admonition thankfully, in what time or place 
soever given ; but afterwards, not being culpable, take a time or 
place convenient to let him know it that gave them. 

"15. Mock not, nor jest at any thing of importance; break 
no jests that are sharp-biting, and if you deliver any thing that is 
witty and pleasant, abstain from laughing thereat yourself 

"16. Wherein you reprove another be unblamable yourself, for 
example is more prevalent than precepts. 

"17. Use no reproachful language against any one; neither 
curse nor revile. 

" 18. Be not hasty to believe flying reports to the disparage- 
ment of any. 

" 19. In your apparel be modest, and endeavour to accommodate 
nature rather than to procure admiration ; keep to the fashion of 
your equals, such as are civil and orderly with respect to times 
and places. 

"20. Play not the peacock, looking everywhere about you to 
see if you be well decked, if your shoes fit well, if your stockings 
sit neatly, and clothes handsomely. 

"21. Associate yourself with men of good quality, if you 
4 C 



26 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

esteem your own reputation; for it is better to be alone than in 
bad company. 

"22. Let your conversation be without malice or envy, for it 
is a sign of a tractable and commendable nature; and in all 
causes of passion, admit reason to govern. 

"23. Utter not base and frivolous things among grave and 
learned men; nor very difficult questions or subjects among the 
ignorant : nor things hard to be believed. 

"24. Be not immodest in urging your friend to discover a 
secret. 

"25. Break not a jest where none takes pleasure in mirth; 
laugh not aloud, nor at all without occasion. Deride no man's 
misfortune, though there seem to be some cause. 

"26. Speak not injurious words neither in jest nor in earnest; 
scoff at none, tliough they give occasion. 

"27. Be not forward, but friendly and courteous; the first to 
salute, hear, and answer; and be not pensive when it is time to 
converse. 

"28. Detract not from others; neither be excessive in com- 
mending. 

"29. Go not thither, where you know not whether you shall 
be welcome or not. Give not advice without being asked, and 
when desired, do it briefly. 

"30. Reprehend not the imperfections of others; for that be- 
longs to parents, masters, and superiors. 

"31. Gaze not on the marks or blemishes of others, and ask 
not how they came. What you may speak in secret to your 
friend, deliver not before others. 

"32. When another speaks, be attentive yourself, and disturb 
not the audience. If any hesitates in his words help him not, 
nor prompt him without being desired; interrupt him not, nor 
answer him till his speech be ended. 

"33. Make no comparisons; and if any of the company be 
commended for any brave act of virtue, commend not another for 
'he same. 

"34. Be not apt to relate news if you know not the truth 
thereof. In discoursing of things you have heard, name not your 
author always. A secret discover not. 

" 35. Undertake not what you cannot perform, but be careful 
to keep your promise. 

"36. Speak not evil of the absent, for it is unjust. 

" 37. Set not yourself at the upper end of the table, but if it 



HALE'S CONTEMPLATIONS. 27 

be your due, or that the master of the house will have it so, con- 
tend not lest you should trouble the company. 

"38. When you speak of God, or his attributes, let it be 
seriously in reverence. Honour and obey your natural parents 
although they be poor. 

"39. Let your recreations be manful, not sinful. 

"40. Labour to keep alive in your breast that little spark of 
celestial fire, called conscience." 

These rules of conduct claim the reader's special attention, be- 
cause we are able to trace in the subsequent life of Washington 
their influence on his character and conduct. Not less worthy of 
notice are certain extracts which we shall take the liberty of making 
from Sir Matthew Hale's "Contemplations," to which we have 
already referred as forming a subject of Washington's early study, 
and as exerting a direct influence in the formation of his principles 
of action. His well-known habits of private devotion, as well as his 
frequent public acts of reverence to the Deity, we may suppose to 
have been influenced in some measure by his imprinting on his 
mind such passages of this excellent work as the following: 

"But on the other side, an humble man leans not to his own 
understanding; he is sensible of the deficiency of his owij power 
and wisdom, and trusts not in it ; he is also sensible of the all- 
sufficient power, wisdom, and goodness of almighty God, and 
commits himself to him for counsel, guidance, direction, and 
strength. It is natural for any man or thing that is sensible of his 
own deficiency, to seek out after that which may be a support 
and strength to him, and as Almighty God is essentially good 
and perfect, so he is (if I may use the expression) most naturally 
communicative of it to any that seek unto him for it in humility 
and sincerity. The air does not more naturally yield to our 
attraction in respiration, or to insinuate itself into those spaces 
that are receptive of it, than the Divine assistance, guidance, and 
beneficence does, to the desires, and exigencies, and wants, of an 
humble soul, sensible of its own emptiness and deficiency, and im- 
ploring the direction, guidance, and blessing, of the most wise and 
bountiful God. I can call my ow7i experience to witness, that even 
in the external actions, occurrences, and incidences of my whole 
life, I was never disappointed of the best guidance and direction, 
when in humility and sense of my own deficiency, and diffidence 
of my ability to direct myself, or to grapple with the difficulties 
of my life, I have with humility and sincerity implored the secret 
direction and guidance of the Divine Wisdom and Providence. 



28 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

And I dare therein appeal to the vigilant and strict observation of 
any man's experience, whether he has not found the same expe- 
rience in relation to himself, and his own actions and successes ; 
and whether those counsels and purposes which have been taken 
up after an humble invocation of the Divine direction, have not 
been always most successful in the end. 

"Consider what it is thou pridest thyself in, and examine well 
the nature of the things themselves, how little and inconsiderable 
they are ; at least how uncertain and unstable they are. 

"Thou hast fine gay clothes, and this makes children and 
young men and women proud, even to admiration. But thou art 
not half so fine and gay as the peacock, ostrich or parrot ; nor is 
thy finery so much thine own as their's is, but it is borrowed from 
the silk-worm, the golden mines, the industry of the embroiderer, 
weaver, tailor, and is no part of thyself. And hast thou the 
patience to suffer thyself to be abused into this childish, pitifiil, 
foolish pride? 

"Thou hast, it may be, wealth, stores of money, but how much 
of it is of use to thee? That which thou spendest is gone; that 
which thou keepest is as insignificant as so much dirt or clay ; 
only thy care about it makes thy life the more uneasy. 

"Thou hast honour, esteem; thou art deceived, thou hast it 
not, he hath it that gives it thee, and which he may detain from 

thee at pleasure But suppose it were as fixed and stable 

a reputation and honour as a rock of marble or adamant, and 
that it were the best kind of honour imaginable, namely, the 
result of thy virtue and merit; yet still it is but a shadow, a reflec- 
tion of that virtue or worth, which, if thou art proud of, thou de- 
gradest into vanity and ostentation ; and canst thou think it rea- 
sonable to be proud of the shadow, where thou oughtest not to be 
proud of that worth that causeth it. 

"Again; thou hast power, art in great place and authority; 
but thou art mistaken in this ; the power thou hast is not inherent 
in thyself One of the meanest of those whom it may be thou 
oppressest, is inherently as powerful as thee, and could, it may 
be, overmatch thee in strength, wit, or policy ; but the power thou 
hast is, (next to the dispensation of Divine Providence,) from 
those men, that either by their promises, faith, or voluntary assist- 
ance, have invested thee with this power. This power is nothing 
inherent in thee, but it depends upon the fidelity or assistance 
of others, which, if they, either by perfidiousness to thee, or resist- 
ance against thee, or withdrawing their assistance from thee, 



EARLY LIFE. 29 

shall call again home to themselves, thou art like Samson, having 
lost his locks. ' Thy strength will go from thee, and thou wilt be- 
come weak, and he like another man.'' " 

Washington's punctuality and his rigid economy of time, as 
well as his habitual sense of religion, seem but the natural conse- 
quences of his attention to such passages as the following: — 

"How time is to be redeemed. The particular methods of hus- 
banding time under both the former relations, viz., in relation to 
opportunity, and in relation to our time in life, shall be promis- 
cuously set down. Now the actions of our lives may be distin- 
guished into several kinds, and in relation to those several actions, 
will the employments of our time be diversified. 1. There are 
actions natural; such as eating, drinking, sleep, motion, rest. 
2. Actions civil ; as provision for families, bearing of public 
offices in time of peace or war ; moderate recreations and diver- 
sions, employments in civil vocations, as agriculture, mechanical 
trades, liberal professions. 3. Actions moral. Whether relating to 
ourselves, as sobriety, temperance, moderation; or relating to 
others, as acts of justice, charity, compassion, liberality ; 4. or 
lastly. Actions religious; relating to Almighty God, as invocation, 
thanksgiving, inquiring into his works, will, obedience to his law 
and commands, observing the solemn seasons of his worship 
and service, which must go through and give a tincture to all 
the rest, a habit of fear of him, love of him, humility and integ- 
rity of heart and soul before him ; and, in sum, a habit of religion 
towards God in his Son Jesus Christ, which is the one thing 

necessary and overweighs all the rest. 

******* 

" Much time might be saved and redeemed, in retrenching the 
unnecessary waste thereof in our ordinary sleep, attiring and 
dressing ourselves, and the length of our meals, as breakfasts, 
dinners, suppers ; which, especially in this latter age, and among 
people of the better sort, are protracted to an immoderate and 
excessive length. 

"Beware of too much recreation. Some bodily exercise is ne- 
cessary, for sedentary men especially ; but let it not be too fre- 
quent or too long. Gaming, taverns, and plays, as they are per- 
nicious, and corrupt youth ; so, if they had no other fault, yet 
they are are justly to be declined in respect to their excessive ex- 
pense of time, and habituating men to idleness and vain thoughts, 
and disturbing passions, when they are past, as well as while they 
are used. Let no recreation of any long continuance be used in 

c2 



30 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

the morning, for they hazard the loss or discomposure of the whole 
day after. 

" Be obstinately constant to your devotion at certain set times, 
and be sure to spend the Lord's day entirely in those religious 
duties proper for it ; and let nothing but an inevitable necessity 
divert you from it. 

"Be industrious and faithful to your calling. The merciful 
God has not only indulged us with a far greater portion of time 
for our ordinary occasions than he has reserved for himself, but 
also enjoins and requires our industry and diligence in it. And 
remember, that you observe that industry and diligence, not only 
as the means of acquiring a competency for yourself and your 
family, but also as an act of obedience to his command and ordi- 
nance, by means whereof, you make it not only an act of civil 
conversation, but of obedience to Almighty God ; and so it be- 
comes in a manner spiritualized into an act of religion. 

" Whatever you do, be very careful to retain in your heart a 
habit of religion, that may be always about you, and keep your 
heart and life always as in His presence, and tending towards him. 
This will be continually with you, and put itself into acts, even 
though you are not in a solemn posture of religious worship, and 
will lend you multitudes of religious applications to God, upon 
all occasions and interventions, which will not at all hinder you 
in any measure, in your secular concerns, but better and further 
you. It will make you faithful in your calling, through reflection 
of the presence and command of Him you fear and love. It 
will make you thankful for all successes and supplies ; temperate 
and sober in all your natural actions ; just and faithful in all your 
dealings ; patient and contented in all your disappointments and 
crosses ; and actually consider and intend His honour in all you 
do ; and will give a tincture of religion and devotion upon all 
your secular employments, and turn those very actions which 
are materially civil or natural, into the very true and formal nature 
of religion, and make your whole life to be an unintermitted life 
of religion and duty to God. For this^Rabit of piety in your 
soul will not only not lie sleeping and inactive, but in almost every 
hour of the day will put forth actual exertings of itself in appli- 
cations of short occasional prayers, thanksgivings, dependence, 
resort unto that God that is always near you, and lodgeth in a 
manner in your heart, by his fear, and love, and habitual religion 
towards him. And by this means you do effectually, and in the 
best manner, redeem your time." 



EARLY LIFE. 31 

The part of the volume, quoted by Mr. McGuire, in his Reli- 
gious Opinions and Character of Washington, as having exerted 
the most perceptible influence on Washington's mind and cha- 
racter, is that in which the author supposes all mankind to be 
standing before the bar of God, who submits to each a charge, 
and receives from the " good steward" an account of his life. 

The following passages form a portion of the charge. 

"1. I have given unto you all your senses, and principally 
those two great senses of discipline, your sight and your hearing. 

<'Item. I have given unto you all, understanding and reason, 
to be a guide of your actions, and to some of you more eminent 
degrees thereof. 

"Item. I have given you all, memory, a treasury of things 
past, heard, and observed. 

"Item. I have given you a conscience to direct you, and to 
check you in your miscarriages, and to encourage you in well- 
doing ; and I have furnished that conscience of yours with light, 
and principles of truth and practice, conformable to my will. 

"Item. I have given you the advantage of speech, whereby to 
communicate your minds to one another, and to instruct and ad- 
vantage one another by the help thereof. 

"Item. I have given over to you the rule and dominion over 
my creatures, allowing you the use of them for your food, raiment, 
and other conveniences. 

"Item. Besides these common talents, I have enriched some of 
you with special and eminent talents above others. I have given 
such great learning and knowledge in the works of nature, art, 
and sciences ; great prudence Eind wisdom in the conduct of 
affairs; elocution, excellent education. I have given you a firm 
and healthy constitution, strength, beauty, and comeliness ; also 
great affluence of wealth and riches, eminence of place, and 
power and honour; great reputation and esteem in the world; 
great success in enterprises and undertakings, public and private. 
Christian and liberal education you have had ; counsel and advice 
of faithful and judi#k)us friends; good laws in the place and 
country where you live; the written word of God acquainting 
you with my will, and the way to eternal life ; the word preached 
by able and powerful ministers thereof; the sacraments both for 
your initiation ^d confirmation:" &c. &c. 

The good steward is represented as giving his answer to this 
charge. The following passages form a part of what he is repre- 
sented as saying: 



32 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

"As to all the blessings and talents wherewith thou hast in- 
trusted me, I have looked up to thee with a thankful heart, as the 
only Author and Giver of them. I have looked on myself as un- 
worthy of them. I have looked upon them as committed to my 
trust and stewardship, to manage them for the ends that they 
were given, the honour of my Lord and Master, I have therefore 
been watchful and sober in the use and exercise of them, lest I 
should be unfaithful in them. If I have at any time, through 
weakness or inadvertence, or temptation, misemployed any of 
them, I have been restless till I have in some measure rectified 
my miscarriage, by repentance and amendment. 

"As touching my conscience and the light thou hast given me 
in it : It has been my care to improve that natural light, and to 
furnish it with the best principles I could. Before I had the 
knowledge of thy w^ord, I got as much furniture as I could from 
the writings of the best moralists, and the examples of the best 
men ; after I had the light of thy word, I furnished it with those 
most pure and unerring principles that I found in it. I have 
been very jealous either of wounding, or grieving, or discourag- 
ing, or deadening my conscience. I have therefore chosen rather 
to forbear that which seemed but indifferent, but there might be 
somewhat in it that might be unlawful ; and would rather gratify 
my conscience with being too scrupulous, than displease or dis- 
quiet it, by being too venturous. I have still chosen rather to 
forbear what might probably be lawful, than to do that which 
might be possibly unlawful ; because I coidd not err in the for- 
mer, I might in the latter. If things were disputable whether they 
might be done, I rather chose to forbear because the lawfulness 
of my forbearance was unquestionable, 

"Concerning my speech, I have always been careful that I 
offend not with my tongue ; my words have been few, unless ne- 
cessity or thy honour required more speech than ordinary; my 
words have been true, representing things as they were ; and sin- 
cere, bearing conformity to my heart and mind I have 

esteemed it the most natural and excellent "use of my tongue to 
set forth thy glory, goodness, powder, wisdom and truth; to in- 
struct others, as I had opportunity, in the knowledge of thee, in 
their duty to thee, to themselves and others ; to reprove vice and 
sin, to encourage virtue and good living, to coifiince of errors, 
to maintain the truth, to call upon thy name, and by vocal 
prayers to sanctify my tongue, and to fix my thoughts to the duty 



EARLY LIFE. 33 

about which I was : to persuade to peace and charity and good 
works. 

"Touching thy creatures, and the use of them, and the domi- 
nion over them, I have esteemed them thine in propriety; thou 
hast committed unto me the use, and a subordinate dominion 
over them ; yet I ever esteemed myself accountable to thee for 
them, and therefore I have received them with thankfulness unto 
thee, the great Lord both of them and me. When the earth 
yielded me a good crop of corn, or other fruits; when flocks 
increased ; when my honest labours bought me in a plentiful or con- 
venient supply, I looked up to thee as the giver, to thy provi- 
dence and blessing as the source of all my increase. I did not 
sacrifice to my own net, or industry, or prudence, but I received 
all as the gracious and bountiful returns of thy liberal hand ; I 
looked upon every grain of corn that I sowed as buried and 
lost, unless thy power quickened and revived it ; I esteemed my 
own hand and industry but impotent, unless thou hadst blessed ; 
for it is thy blessing that maketh rich, and it is thou that givest 
power to get wealth. 

"I esteemed it my duty to make a return of this my acknowledg- 
ment, by giving the tribute of my increase in the maintenance 
of thy ministers, and the relief of the poor ; and I esteemed the 
practice enjoined to thy ancient people of giving the tenth of 
their increase, not only a sufficient w^arrant, but instruction to me, 
under the gospel, to do the like 

"Concerning human prudence, and understanding in affairs, 
and dexterity in the management of them, I have always been 
careful to mingle justice and honesty wdth my prudence ; and 
have always esteemed prudence, actuated by injustice and falsity, 
the arrantest and most devilish practice in the world, because it 
prostitutes thy gift to the service of hell, and mingles a beam 
of thy Divine excellence with an extract of the devil's fiirnish- 
ing, making a man so much the worse by how much he is wiser 
than others. I always thought that wisdom, which in a trades- 
man and in a politician was mingled with deceit, falsity, and 
injustice, deserved the same name, only the latter is so much the 
worse, because it was of the more public and general concern- 
ment; yet because I have often observed great employments, 
especially public affairs, are sometimes under great temptations 
of mingling too much craft with prudence, and then to miscall it 
policy, I have, as much as maybe, avoided such temptations, and 
if I have met wuth them, I have resolutely rejected them. 
5 



34 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

"I haA^e always observed, that honesty and plain dealings in 
transactions, as well public as private, is the best and soundest 
prudence and policy, and commonly at the long-run overmatches 
craft and subtlety; for the deceived and deceiver are thine, and 
thou art privy to the subtlety of one, and the simplicity of the 
other ; and as the great observer and ruler of men dost dispense 
success and disappointments accordingly. 

"As human prudence is abused if mingled with falsity and 
deceit, though the end be ever so good, so it is much more de- 
based, if directed to a bad end ; to the dishonour of thy name, 
the oppression of thy people, the corrupting of thy worship or 
truth, or to execute any injustice towards any person. It hath 
been my care as not to err in the manner, so neither in the end, 
of the exercising of thy Providence. I have ever esteemed my 
prudence then best employed, when it was exercised in the pre- 
servation and support of thy truth, in the upholding of thy faith- 
ful ministers, in countermining, discovering, and disappointing 
the designs of evil and treacherous men, in delivering the op- 
pressed, in righting the injured, in preventing of wars and dis- 
cords, in preserving the public peace and tranquillity of the 
people where I live ; and in all those offices incumbent upon me 
by thy providence under every relation. 

"When my end was most unquestionably good, I ever then took 
most heed that the means were suitable and justifiable. Because 
the better the end was, the more easily are we cozened into the 
use of ill means to effect it. We are too apt to dispense with 
ourselves in the practice of what is amiss, in order to the accom- 
plishing of an end that is good ; we are apt, while with great 
intenseness of mind we gaze upon the end, not to take care what 
course we take so we attain it; and we are apt to think that God 
wall dispense with, or at least overlook, the miscarriages in our 
attempts, if the end be good. Because many times, if not most 
times, thy name and honour do more suffer by attempting a good 
end by bad means, than by attempting both a bad end and by bad 
means. For bad ends are suitable to bad means; they are alike; 
and it doth not immediately as such concern thy honour. But 
every thing that is good hath somewhat of thee in it ; thy name, 
and thy nature, and thy honour is written upon it ; and the blemish 
that is cast upon it, is, in some measure, cast upon thee ; and the 
evil, and scandal, and infamy, that is in the means, is cast upon 
the end, and doth disparage and blemish it, and consequently it 
dishonours thee. To rob for burnt offerings, and to lie for God, 



EARLY LIFE. 35 

is a greater disservice to thy majesty, than to rob for rapine or to 
lie for advantage. 

<< Whensoever my prudence was successful, in the attainment 
of a good end, I ever gave thy name the glory and that in sin- 
cerity. I have known some men, (and if a man will observe his 
own heart, he will find it there also, unless it be strictly denied,) 
that will give God the glory of the success of a good enterprise, 
but yet with a kind of secret reservation of somewhat of praise 
for themselves, their prudence, conduct, and wisdom ; and will 
be glad to hear of it, and secretly angry and discontented if they 
miss it; and many times give God the glory, with a kind of 
ostentation and vanity in doing so. But I have given thee the 
glory of it because of my very judgment, that it is due, and due 
only to thee. I do know that that prudence that I have comes 
from thee ; and I do know that it is thy providential ordering of 
occurrences that makes prudential deliberations successful ; and 
more is due unto thy ordering, disposing, fitting, timing, directing 
of all in seeming casualties, than there is to that human counsel 
by which it is moved or seems to be moved ; the least whereof, 
if not marshalled by thy hand, would have shattered and broken 
the counsel into a thousand pieces. Thou givest the advice 
by thy wisdom, and dost second it by thy providence; thou 
dealest by us, as we do by our children, when we set them to 
lift up a heavy weight, and we lift with them ; and we again are 
too like those children that think we moved the weight, when we 
moved not a grain of it. 

"In reference to my health, I always avoided these two ex- 
tremes : I never made it my idol, I declined not the due employ- 
ment of my body in the works of charity or necessity, or my 
ordinary calling, out of a vain fear of injuring my health; for I 
reckoned my health given me in order to these employments. 
And as he is over careful, that will not put on his clothes, for fear 
of wearing them out, or use his axe, for fear of hurting it ; so he 
gives but an ill account of a healthy body, that dares not employ 
it in a suitable occupation, for fear of hurting his health. Nor 
was I vainly prodigal of it, but careful in a due manner to pre- 
serve it. I would decline places of infection, if I had no special 
duties that brought me to them, also unnecessary journeys, expos- 
ing myself to unnecessary dangers, especially intemperance in 
eating and drinking. 

" Touching my eminence of place or power in this world, this 
is my account. I never sought or desired it, and that for these 



36 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

reasons. First, because I easily saw that it was rather a burden 
than a privilege. It made my charge and my account the greater, 
my contentment and my rest the less. I found enough in it to make 
me decline it in respect of myself, but not any thing that could 
make me seek or desire it. That external glory and splendour 
that attended it, I esteemed as vain and frivolous in itself, a bait 
to allure vain and inconsiderate persons, not valuable enough 
to invite a considerate judgment to desire to undertake it. I 
esteemed it as the gilding that covers a bitter pill, and I looked 
through the dress and outside, and easily saw that it covered a 
state obnoxious to danger, solicitude, care, trouble, envy, dis- 
content, disquietude, temptation, and vexation. I esteemed it a 
condition, which, if there were any distempers abroad, they would 
infallibly be hunting and pushing after it ; and if it found any 
corruptions within, either of pride, vain-glory, insolence, vindic- 
tiveness, or the like, it would be sure to draw them out and set 
them to work. And if they prevailed, it made my powxr and 
greatness, not only my burden but my sin ; if they prevailed not, 
yet it required a most watchful, assiduous, and severely vigilant 
labour and industry to suppress them. 

" When I undertook any place of power or eminence, first, I 
looked to my call thereunto, to be such as I might discern to be 
thy call, not my own ambition. Second, that the place were such 
as might be answered by suitable abilities, in some measure, to 
perform. Third, that my end in it might not be the satisfaction 
of any pride, ambition, or vanity in myself, but to serve thy 
providence and my generation faithfully. In all which my under- 
taking was not an act of my choice, but of my duty. 

"In the holding or exercising these places, I kept my heart 
humble ; I valued not myself one rush the more for it. First, 
because I easily found that that base affection of pride, which 
commonly is the fly that haunts such employments, would render 
me dishonourable to thy majesty and disserviceable in the em- 
ployment. Second, because I easily saw great places were slip- 
pery places, the mark of envy. It was, therefore, always my 
care so to behave myself in them, as I might be in a capacity to 
leave them, and so to leave them, that when I had left them I 
might have no scars and blemishes stick upon me. I carried, 
therefore, the same evenness of temper in holding them, as might 
become me if I were without them. Third, I found enough in 
great employments, to make me sensible of the danger, troublfj, 



EARLY LIFE. 37 

and cares of them, enough to make me humble, but not enough 
to make me proud and haughty. 

'< I never znade use of my power or greatness to serve my own 
turns, either to heap up riches, or to oppress my neighbour, or to 
revenge injuries, or to uphold injustice. For, though others 
thought me great, I knew myself to be still the same, and in all 
things, besides the due execution of my place, my deportment 
was just the same as if I had been no such a man ; for first, I 
knew that I was but thy steward and minister, and placed there 
to serve thee, and those ends which thou proposedst in my prefer- 
ment, and not serve myself, much less my passions or corruptions. 
And further, I very well and practically knew, that place, and 
honour, and preferment, are things extrinsical, and form no part 
of man. His value and estimate before, and under, and after his 
greatness, is still the same in itself, as the counter that now stands 
for a penny, anon for sixpence, and then for twelve-pence, is still 
the same counter, though its place and extrinsical denomination 
be changed. 

" I improved the opportunity of my place, eminence, and great- 
ness, to serve thee and my country in it, with all vigilance, dili- 
gence, and fidelity. I protected, countenanced, and encouraged 
thy worship, name, day, and people. I did faithfully execute 
justice according to that station I had. I rescued the oppressed 
from the cruelty, malice, and insolence of their oppressors. I 
cleared the innocent fi-om unjust calumnies and reproaches. I 
was instrumental to place those in offices, places, and employ- 
ments of trust and consequence, that were honest and faithful. 
I removed those that were dishonest, irreligious, false, or un- 
just, &c. 

" Touching my reputation and credit, I never affected the repu- 
tation of being rich, great, crafty, or politic ; but I esteemed much 
a deserved reputation, of justice, honesty, integrity, virtue, and 
piety. 

'< I never thought that reputation was the thing primarily to be 
looked after in the exercise of virtue, for that were to affect the 
substance for the sake of the shadow, which had been a kind of 
levity and weakness of mind ; but I looked at virtue, and the 
worth of it, as that which was the first desirable, and reputation, 
as a fair and useful accession to it. 

<< The reputation of justice and honesty, I was always careful 
to keep untainted, upon these grounds. First, because a blemish 
in my reputation would be dishonourable to thee. Second, 

D 



38 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

it would be an abuse of a talent which thou hadst committed 
to me. Third, it would be a weakening of an instrument which 
thou hadst put into my hands, upon the strength whereof much 
good might be done by me. 

" Though I have loved my reputation, and have been vigilant 
not to lose, or impair it, by my own default or neglect, yet I have 
looked upon it as a bitter thing, a thing that the devil aims to hit 
in a special manner, a thing that is much in the power of a false 
report, a mistake, a misapprehension, to wound and hurt ; and 
notwithstanding all my care, I am at the mercy of others, without 
God's wonderful, overruling providence. And as my reputation 
is the esteem that others have of me, so that esteem may be 
blemished without my default. I have, therefore, always taken 
this care, not to set my heart upon my reputation. I will use all 
fidelity and honesty, and take care it shall not be lost by any 
default of mine ; and if, notwiThsandiag all this, my reputation 
be soiled by evil, or envious men, or angels, I wall patiently 
bear it, and content myself with the serenity of my own con- 
science. 

" When thy honour, or the good of my country, was concerned, 
I then thought it was a seasonable time to lay out my reputation 
for the advantage of either, and to act with it, and by it, and upon 
it, to the highest, in the use of all lawful means. And upon such 
an occasion, the counsel of Mordecai to Esther was my encou- 
ragement — <Who knoweth whether God hath not given thee this 
reputation and esteem for such a time as this ?' " 

In these striking selections from this excellent production, our 
readers will doubtless see reason for the belief, that no small influ- 
ence was contributed thereby toward the formation of Washington's 
character. Here we might stop in the assurance that such a per- 
suasion would be general. But we cannot forbear another quo- 
tation, because of the singular coincidence of its sentiments with 
those which are known to have distinguished the Father of his 
country. We cite the discourse in which the author treats '< Of 
Wisdom and the Fear of God." His language is: — 

" Sincerity, uprightness, integrity, and honesty, are certainly 
true and real wisdom. Let any man observe it where he will, 
an hypocrite, or dissembler, or a double-hearted man, though he 
may shuffle it out for awhile, yet at the long run he is discovered, 
and disappointed, and betrays very much folly at the latter end ; 
when a plain, sincere, honest man, holds it out to the very last ; 
so that the proverb is most true, that < Honesty is the best Policy.' 



EARLY LIFE. 39 

Now the great privilege of the fear of God is, that it makes the 
heart sincere and upright, and even that will certainly make the 
words and actions so. For he is under the sense of the inspec- 
tion and animadversion of that God who searches the heart ; and 
therefore, he dares not lie, nor dissemble, nor flatter, nor preva- 
ricate, because he knows the pure, all-seeing, righteous God, that 
loves truth and integrity, and hates lying and dissimulation, be- 
holds, and sees, and observes him, and knows his thoughts, words 
and actions " 

" Another great cause of folly in the world is, inadvertence, 
inconsideration, precipitancy, and over-hastiness in speeches or 
actions. If men had but the patience, many times, to pause but 
so long in actions and speeches of moment as might serve to 
repeat but the Creed or Lord's Prayer, many follies in the world 
would be avoided that do very much mischief, both to the parties 
themselves and others. And therefore, inadvertence and precipi- 
tancy in things of great moment, and that require much delibe- 
ration, must needs be a very great folly, because the consequence 
of miscarriage in them is of greater moment. Now the fear of 
God, being actually present upon the soul, and exerting itself, is 
the greatest motive and obligation in the world to consideration 
and attention, touching things to be done or said 

" It mightily advanceth and improveth the worth and excellency 
of most human actions in the world, and ma'ces them a nobler 
kind of a thing, than otherwise, without it, they would be. Take 
a man that is employed as a statesman or politician, though he 
have much wisdom and prudence, it commonly degenerates into 
craft, and cunning, and pitiful shuffling, without the fear of God ; 
but mingle the fear of Almighty God with that kind of wisdom, 
it renders it noble, and generous, and staid, and honest, and 
stable. Again, take a man that is much acquainted with the 
subtler kind of learning, as philosophy for instance, without the 
fear of God upon his heart, it will carry him over to pride, arro- 
gance, self-conceit, curiosity, presumption; but mingle it with 
the fear of God, it will ennoble that knowledge, carry it up to the 
honour and glory of that God, who is the author of nature, to the 
admiration of his power, wisdom, and goodness ; it will keep 
him humble, modest, sober, and yet rather with an advance than 
detriment to his knowledge." 

We should not have ventured to copy such long extracts from 
Sir Matthew Hale's Contemplations, even though they may with 
propriety be denominated Washington's Manual, so far as religion 



40 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

and morals are concerned, had we not been desirous to com- 
mend them to the notice of the reader as suitable for general use 
and observance. These principles of conduct are as worthy 
the attention of those occupying the humbler stations in life as 
of those who are called to direct the movements of armies and 
preside over the destinies of nations. 

While Washington was at school, he studied surveying, and 
reduced it to practice in the neighbourhood of his residence. 
His masterly style of composition was not the result of any 
instruction in the Greek and Latin classics, for he never studied 
them. It was acquired as he advanced in life, by self-instruc- 
tion, reflection, practice, and intercourse and correspondence 
with men of superior classical attainments. Nor was it in com- 
position alone that Washington was his own instructor. Never 
did any one better deserve to be called a self-taught man. All 
that may with most propriety be denominated education, all that 
forms the character for great enterprises, and exalted stations, 
appears in his case to have been the result of self-directed study, 
reflection, and practice. And such is the education of all truly 
great men. If we run over the list of those who have distin- 
guished themselves signally on the great theatre of human affairs, 
those who have advanced science by inventions and discoveries, 
who have conducted armies to conquest, or who have success- 
fully guided the masses of their fellow-men in political affairs, 
we shall find that they have been, almost without exception, 
self-taught men. An art, a trade, or a science, may be taught by 
instructors — learnt by imitation ; but the ability to invent, to 
originate new views and laws of action, to combine parts into a 
system, to meet new and unexpected emergencies, to grasp and 
manage the helm of power, is derived only from self-instruction. 
A man may be taught any thing but to be great. 

By this view of the matter, it is not intended to detract in any 
degree from the value of instruction derived from others, and 
least of all in the case of Washington, to whose early moral and 
religious instruction we have already referred as forming his prin- 
ciples of conduct. But this training served merely as the basis 
upon which he himself, by study, reflection, and earnest activity, 
built up that exalted and masculine character which has no parallel 
among men. 

W^ashington left school for the last time in the autumn preced- 
ing his sixteenth birthday ; and from that time, leaving his bro- 
ther Augustine, he resided partly with his mother opposite to 



EARLY LIFE. 



41 



Fredericksburg, and partly with his brother Lawrence, at Mount 
Vernon, He still spent much of his time in the study of mathe- 
matics, and in the exercise of practical surveying for the pur- 
pose of becoming familiar with the use of the instruments and 
the application of the principles. His leisure hours were spent 
in athletic exercises ; and he excelled, in an especial manner, in 
running, wrestling, jumping, and riding. This habit of vigorous 
exercise continued with him through life, and gave such strength 
and activity to his body as enabled him afterwards to sustain all 
those hardships which it was his duty to encounter in his coun- 
try's cause. 




Da 



42 



LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 




C A R T n A G E :J A. 



CHAPTER II. 



N 1739, war had been declared by 
Great Britain against Spain, and 
Admiral Vernon was sent to take 
the command of a small fleet in 
the West Indies, with orders to 
operate against the Spanish posses- 
sions in that quarter. In Novem- 
ber, he sailed with six men-of-war 
from Jamaica and attacked the 
fortress of Porto Bello. The Spa- 
nish governor was compelled to 
capitulate ; and Vernon, blowing 
up the fortifications, returned to Jamaica. During the next year, 
with thirty sail of the line and 15,000 sailors, he undertook an ex- 
pedition against Carthagena. The land forces accompanying this 
expedition amounted to 12,000, and were under the command of 
General Wentworth. Carthagena was besieged by this force, the 
greatest that had ever been seen in America, but such M^as the 
bravery and determination of the Spaniards that the English 
officers were compelled to abandon the siege. Lawrence Wash- 




^y^ ^'riM 



DECLINES ENTERING THE NAVY. 



43 




ADMIRAL VERMON. 



ington, George's eldest 
brother, serv^ed as an offi- 
cer in this expedition. So 
well had he conducted him- 
self that he had procured 
the approbation and confi- 
dence of the two comman- 
ders, Admiral Vernon ami 
General Wentworth. This 
friendship continuing, a 
correspondence was kept 
up between them and him 
for many years after the 
conclusion of the war, 
At George's desire, before 
he left school, in the year 
1746, Lawrence procured 
for him a midshipman's warrant in the British navy, which was 
then considered the best road to preferment. George, though he 
was then only in his fifteenth year, prepared with pleasure for his 
departure ; for the vessel in which he was to embark was lying 
almost ready to sail, in the Potomac, within sight of Mount Ver- 
non — so called by Lawrence in compliment to his friend, the 
Admiral. 

In the mean time the mother of Washington had felt and ex- 
pressed much concern at the prospect of parting with her son, and 
his entering on a career which would effectually separate him 
from the soil of his native country. This was not the effect of 
mere maternal fondness. George was her eldest son, and in her 
widowed state he was her natural stay and support. His con- 
nections and prospects were such as to render his permanent resi- 
dence on shore an object of great importance ; and although 
the proposed scheme apparently afforded the best prospect of 
promotion, the result proved that it would really have marred 
forever his brilliant fortunes. What arguments she used in order 
to convince, or what solicitations to persuade her son to relin- 
quish his favourite project, of course cannot be known ; but it 
will ahvays be considered one of the wisest actions of his life that 
he yielded to her wishes and abandoned his hopes of fame and 
fortune as a naval officer. Such self-denial in a boy of sixteen 
IS equally creditable as a proof of good sense, and of filial 
affection. 



44 



LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 




■WASHINGTON BELINQUISHING HIS PLAN OF ENTERING THE NAVT. 



Though Washington thus relinquished his station on the deck 
of a man-of-war, he did not the less cultivate that military talent 
which had been given him for higher uses. Adjutant Muse, of 
the county of Westmoreland, who had accompanit;d his brother 
Lawrence in the expedition against Carthagena, taught him the 
manual exercise. The same gentleman also lent him certain 
treatises on the art of war, by the aid of which he obtaijied some 
knowledge of the theory of tactics, and of the movements and 
evolutions of troops. The art of fencing he learnt from Monsieur 
Van Braam, who subsequently acted as his interpreter in his inter- 
course with the French on the Ohio. 

Soon after leaving school, George went to reside with his bro- 
ther Lawrence, at Mount Vernon, where he became acquainted 
with Lord Fairfax, and other members of the Fairfax family then 
established in Virginia. Lawrence Washington had married a 
sister of William Fairfax, a distant relation of Lord Fairfax, and 
at that time a member of the Virginia council. This gentleman 
was at Mount Vernon on a visit to his sister w^hile George was 
there, and being very much pleased with his young acquaintance, 
lie invited him to his residence at Belvoir, a short distance from 



WASHINGTON A SURVEYOR. 47 

Mount Vernon. There he made George acquainted with his sons 
and daughters, and soon became his friend and adviser. Hearing 
him one day express a wish to get employment as a surveyor, 
Mr. Fairfax introduced and recommended him to his relative, 
Lord Fairfax, the inheritor of a vast tract of country lying between 
the Potomac and Rappahannoc Rivers, and stretching across the 
Alleghany Mountains. 

_ This immense tract of land had never been surveyed ; and the 
important and responsible office of surveying it was now intrusted 
to Washington, who entered on his first expedition for this pur- 
pose at the age of sixteen. He was accompanied by George 
Fairfax, a son of William Fairfax. (1748.) The duty, as usual, 
in a wild country, was extremely arduous, exposing the young 
surveyors to all the inclemencies of the weather, and bringing 
them into frequent contact with the Indians. It was performed, 
however, to the entire satisfaction of the proprietor ; and it un- 
doubtedly led to Washington's subsequent appointment as public 
surveyor, an office which kept him actively and laboriously em- 
ployed for three years. 

The business of practical surveying undoubtedly formed a very 
important part of Washington's preparation for the office of mili- 
tary commander. It not only hardened and invigorated his 
already robust frame, but it educated his eye, and accustomed 
him to judge respecting distances and advantages of position. 
By making him an able civil engineer, it laid the foundation of 
his future eminence in a military capacity. It was more immedi- 
ately advantageous to him by procuring for him the acquaintance 
of the principal landholders of the state, and by making known to 
them his remarkable judgment, good sense, and ability in the 
conduct of affiiirs. The effiect of this last circumstance was seen 
in his appointment, at the age of nineteen, to the office of adjutant- 
general with the rank of major. This gave him the charge of a 
district, with the duty of exercising the militia, inspecting their 
arms, and superintending their discipline. 

Soon after entering upon the duties of this office, Washington's 
fraternal affection induced -him to accompany his brother Law- 
rence in a voyage to Barbadoes, whither he had been ordered by 
the physicians, in consequence of a pulmonary attack which threat- 
ened his life. The brothers were strongly attached to e^h. other, 
and the office of cheering and nursing the invalid could not have 
been confided to better hands. The voyage, however, was made 
too late. The disease had already made such progress that the 



48 



LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 




70TAQE TO BARBADOES. 



change of air and scene was insufficient to effect a cure. After 
remaining some time in Barbadoes, Lawrence determined to pro- 
ceed to Bermuda after sending his brother back to Virginia with 
instructions to accompany his wife, who was to join her husband 
at Bermuda. While in Barbadoes, George had the small-pox, 
with which he was slightly marked during the rest of his life. 

Finding, soon after his arrival at Bermuda, that his health was 
not essentially benefited, Lawrence Washington returned to Vir- 
ginia without waiting for his relations to meet him at that island ; 
and soon after his return he sunk rapidly to the grave. " Few 
men," says Mr. Sparks, " have been more beloved for their ami- 
able qualities, or admired for those higher traits of character 
which give dignity to virtue, and a charm to accomplishments of 
mind and manners." 

In his will, Lawrence appointed George one of his executors, 
and the estate of Mount Vernon, bequeathed to his daughter, was 
to pass to George in case of her demise without issue. The new 
responsibilities thus devolved upon him, together with his public 
duties, afforded ample employment for all his active energies. 

The Northern military division of Virginia, which was now 
assigned to Major Washington, included several counties, each 
of which, in the discharge of his duties as adjutant-general, he 
visited at stated times. Here it was that he first tried, and learned 



AN ADJUTANT-GENERAL. 



49 



to place confidence in those military manoeuvres in which he after- 
wards became so skilful. Nor was his vigilance useless to the 
officers under his command, at this early period. Animated and 
encouraged by the example of one, younger than most of them, 
they learned to love him, to place unlimited confidence in his 
knowledge and abilities, and to render that strict and active obe- 
dience to superiors in command, whatever may be their age, which 
is absolutely necessary to success in all military enterprises. It 
was by the courage, the perseverance, and the obedience of some 
of these very officers, that Washington was, some time afterwards, 
enabled to save the remnant of the army of the unfortunate Brad- 
dock. 




50 



LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 




CHAPTER III. 



'OmmijnccTOeMt ©ii Ifji? ^?l3?n If^air^' 



.atf. 




^^-- 



HE course of events being now such as 
to call Washington into a more extended 
field of operations, it is thought neces- 
sary to trace the causes which led to his 
taking an active part in j)ublic affairs. 
Canada, since the year 1608, when 
the first permanent settlement was 
made, had been in the undisputed 
possession of the French. Both the 
French and English claimed the lands 



in the Western Continent, by the right 
of prior discovery, and possession or settlement, without any 
regard to the right of the native inhabitants. The claims founded 
on discovery and actual occupation had hitherto covered but a 
small portion of the continent, and the European nations, by the 
Treaty of Aix-la-Chapelle, adjusted, in a superficial manner, the 
distribution of North America between the three dominant powers, 
England, France, and Spain. This agreement was very imperfect, 
however, inasmuch as the colonies of these three powers occupied 
but a narrow band along the Atlantic coast ; and though their 



THE SEVEN YEARS' WAR. 51 

charters claimed the whole country from sea to sea, yet as they 
were entirely unacquainted with those vast regions, it was not 
improbable that they would soon be again involved in new diffi- 
culties respecting boundaries. 

In 1673, a party of French from Canada discovered the upper 
waters of the Mississippi River, at the spot at which it is joined 
by the Wisconsin ; and sailing down it as far as the Arkansas, 
they decided from its course that it emptied into the Gulf of 
Mexico. They then returned by land to Canada. On this dis- 
covery, the French nation based its right to the great Mississippi 
Valley. Having sailed down the river, they claimed all the lands 
watered by its tributaries. They afterwards took possession of 
the country lying near the mouth of the river, and about the year 
1722, a small colony was planted at New Orleans. In ten or 
twelve years their settlements in Louisiana increased and began 
to extend up the Mississippi. Thus the French possessed two 
considerable colonies, one of them north, and the other south, of 
the English possessions. Their settlers from Canada approaching 
the Ohio River, and those of Louisiana manifesting a disposition to 
occupy the Valley of the Mississippi, the project was formed of 
connecting these two colonies by means of a chain of forts, run- 
ning along the Ohio, and down the Mississippi. This plan inter- 
fered with the chartered rights of the English, extending from sea 
to sea, and would have confined them to the eastern side of the 
Alleghany Mountains. The Indians, too, who had hitherto been 
friendly to the English settlers of Virginia, becoming alarmed for 
their safety, began to side with their nearer neighbours, and by 
them they were soon instigated to make depredations on their 
former friends. 

Already had the French, by the erection of a strong fort at 
Crown Point, secured the command of Lake Champlain, and a 
connected chain of posts was maintained from Quebec, up the St. 
Lawrence, and along the great lakes ; until at last they approached 
the Ohio, and entered on the territory which had been actually 
granted, by charter, to the colony of Virginia. The English 
traders were warned not to enter the country claimed by the 
French to trade with the Indians. A few, disregarding the warn- 
ing, were captured and carried as prisoners to Presque Isle, on 
Lake Erie, where the French were then erecting a s.trong fort. 
This was done, too, when the two nations were at peace with 
each other. A. D. 1753. 



52 



LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 




HE Indians, instigated it is supposed 
by French emissaries, commenced 
their savage warfare. The great val- 
ley of the Shenandoah was then but 
thinly peopled. The farmers who had 
ventured so far from the civilized world 
seemed to be careless about the society 
of their species, and took up their posi- 
tions out of sight of even the smoke from their neighbours' chim- 
neys. These isolated families ofien suffered from the incursions 
of the savages, who spared neither age nor sex, but committed 
their wanton cruelty on the persons of all alike, often wreaking 
their fiendish hatred on the unoffending and lifeless body after 
the soul had been released from sufferings too horrible to be 
narrated. The near approach of their old enemies, the French, 
and the ascendency which they were known to possess over the 
wild savages of the forest, naturally filled these desolate families 
with fear. They called upon the governor for aid. Governor Din- 
widdle had already despatched a messenger over the mountains, 
with presents for the Indians, and instructions to ascertain their 
temper and designs, and, if possible, to find out the intentions of 
the French. He, however, became alarmed at the tales told him 
by the Indians, to whom he delivered his presents, and returned 
without effecting his object. 

Orders now arrived from the British ministry, for the Governor 
of Virginia to build two forts near the Ohio River, to prevent the 
encroachments of the French, and to hold the Indians in check. 
But the orders arrived too late. The French had already taken 
possession of the territory bordering on the Ohio. 

Thus commenced the Seven Years' War in America, called, by 
the provincial soldiers who were engaged in it, the Old French 
War. It was destined to develope the military talents and ener- 
gies of Washington, and to transfer the possession of Canada and 
the other northern provinces of America, from France to Great 
Britain. 

The French having taken possession of the country and built 
forts in different places on the Ohio, Governor Dinwiddle, in obe- 
dience to the orders of the British ministry, determined to assert 
the right of his king, as well as that of the province of Virginia, 
to the stations thus occupied, and if possible effect their dislodg- 
ment. For this purpose, he deemed it advisable, at first, to de- 




THE SEVEN YEARS' WAR. 53 

spatch an envoy to the French commandant, ordering him to retire 
from the territories of the British. This service was one of great 
delicacy, and full of danger and difficulty. " The envoy would 
be under the necessity of passing through an extensive and almost 
unexplored wilderness, intersected with rugged mountains and 
considerable rivers, and inhabited by fierce savages, who were 
either hostile to the English or of doubtful attachment."* 

Such were the difficulties and dangers of the service that not 
one of the many aids and immediate attendants on the governor 
offered to undertake it, and Dinwiddie began to fear that it 
would be necessary to abandon the project. 

•N this crisis Washington, then only twenty-one years 
of age, volunteered his services. This was not 
done at the instigation of ambition : the service was 
dangerous, and no honour would accrue on its suc- 
cessful issue. He did it not from poverty, nor from 
the want of employment ; we have seen him actively 
and usefully engaged, and in possession of a compe- 
tent fortune. But at the voice of his country he cheerfully re- 
signed the ease and comforts of home, to enter on a journey in the 
depth of winter, through a savage wilderness which exposed him 
to the severest fatigue and privation, and the most imminent dan- 
gers. The acceptance of the office, therefore, can only be re- 
garded as an act of devoted patriotism. 

The governor, a kind-hearted old Scotsman, thankfully accepted 
the ofler of Washington's services, saying, at the same time, that 
if he conducted himself to his satisfaction and that of the council, 
he would have no cause to repent having undertaken the service. 
On the 30th of October, he received his commission and instruc- 
tions from the governor, together with a letter to the French com- 
mander, inquiring into his designs and the authority by which he 
had dared to invade the dominions of the King of England, and 
ordering him forthwith to evacuate the territory of Virginia. Be- 
sides delivering this message, his instructions required him to 
obtain information of the position, force, and designs of the 
French through the aid of the friendly Indians on the borders. 

With these instructions and a passport, Washington commenced 
his journey on the 31st of October, 1753. He was accompanied 
by John Davidson, as Indian interpreter, and Jacob Van Braam, 
his old fencing-master, as French interpreter. Passing through 
Fredericksburg, Alexandria, and Winchester, they arrived on the 

* Marshall. 
E 2 



54 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

14th of November at Wills' Creek, beyond which no road ex- 
tended, and where it was necessary to hire a guide. For this 
purpose, the services of Mr. Gist were secured. This person was 
eminently qualified for the post thus given to him, for having 
made a settlement between the northwestern ridge of the Allegha- 
nies and the Monongahela River, he had often traversed the country 
between his settlement and the Ohio, and was well acquainted with 
the habits of the Indians in the neighbourhood through which their 
route lay.* Four other men were here added to the little expedi- 
tion, to act as attendants, and take charge of the horses and baggage. 
Their names were Currin, McQuire, Steward and Jenkins, the two 
former being Indian traders. The number of the party being thus 
increased to eight, they proceeded on their w^ay. They now en- 
tered on the great western wilderness, through which it was 
necessary to follow Indian trails or direct their course by the com- 
pass. Excessive rains, aided by the melting of the snows with 
which the tops of the mountains were already covered, had so 
swelled the streams which crossed their course, as to render their 
journey one of continued labour and difficulty. 

On the 22d they arrived at the settlement of Mr. Frazier, an 
Indian trader on the Monongahela River, about ten miles from the 
forks of the Ohio. The streams being impassable except by 
swimming the horses, or on rafts, they were obliged to borrow a 
canoe from the trader, and to send Currin and Steward down the 
Monongahela with the baggage, to meet the rest of the party at 
the forks. Washington, arriving at that place before the canoe, 
spent some time in viewing Ihe rivers and land in the fork, which 
he thought extremely well situated for a fort, as it had the 
absolute command of both rivers. He thus speaks of the spot 
where the French soon after erected Fort Du Quesne, and where 
the great manufacturing city of Pittsburg has since sprung up so 
rapidly. The words are taken from his journal, published by the 
order of the governor on his return from the expedition. "The 
land at the point is twenty or twenty-five feet above the common 
surface of the water ; and a considerable bottom of flat, well-tim- 
bered land all around it, very convenient for building. The 
rivers are each a quarter of a mile or more across, and run here 
very nearly at right angles, Alleghany bearing northeast, and 
Monongahela south-east. The former of these is very rapid, 
running water, the other deep and still, without any perceptible 
fall." The next day he examined a spot about two miles down 

* Sparks. 



WASHINGTON'S EMBASSY. " 55 

the Ohio, where the Ohio Company intended to erect a fort, and 
he declared it to be greatly inferior, either for defence or advan- 
tages, to the position at the forks. He says, << A fort at the fork 
would be equally well situated on the Ohio, and have the entire 
command of the Monongahela, which runs from the Virginia set- 
tlement, and is extremely well designed for water carriage, as it 
is of a deep, still nature. Besides, a fort at the fork might be 
built at much less expense than at the other place. Nature has 
well contrived this lower place for water defence ; but the hill 
whereon it must stand being about a quarter of a mile in length, 
and then descending gradually on the land side, will render it 
difficult and very expensive to make a sufficient fortification there. 
The whole flat upon the hill must be taken in, the side next the 
descent made extremely high, or else the hill itself cut away ; 
otherwise, the enemy may raise batteries within that distance, 
without being exposed to a single shot from the fort." 

Such was Washington's opinion, at the age of twenty-one, 
of the advantages and capabilities of a position, the import- 
ance of which soon became manifest to the French, who there, 
as we have already remarked, soon after erected Fort Du Quesne. 
The correctness of his opinion is further demonstrated by the 
importance attached to the fort in two wars, and by the flou- 
rishing condition of the city which now stands at the forks of the 
Ohio. On the 25th day after his departure from Williamsburg, 
Washington reached Logstown, where he was instructed to convene 
as many Indian chiefs as possible, and solicit a guard to the French 
forts. He immediately called a council of the principal sachems, 
to be held on the 26th. Tanacharison, or the Half-King, the 
principal chieftain, being absent on an embassy from the others 
to the French commandant, it was necessary to make this short 
delay in order that time might be allowed for his return. He 
returned on the afternoon of the 25th. This chief, thinking that 
the English only desired to trade with the Indians and not to dis- 
possess them of their lands, favoured them in preference to the 
French, whom he saw building forts and houses, and taking forci- 
ble possession of the country. This forcible entry of the French 
upon their territories was deprecated by several tribes, and the 
Half-King was sent by them as their deputy to remonstrate with 
the intruders, on the injustice of their course. From this em- 
bassy he had just returned, when a private interview was soli- 
cited by Major Washington. After informing him of the nature 
of the business which had brought the party to his village, he de- 



56 



LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 




T ANAOHABISON, OS THE HALF-KING. 



sired the chief to relate some of the particulars of his journey to 
the French encampment, and of his reception there, and to give 
him an account of the ways and distances. He told him that 
<< the nearest and levelest way was at that season impassable, on 
account of the many large miry savannas through which it passed, 
that he would be obliged to go by Venango, and could not get to 
the nearest fort in less than five or six nights' sleep, good travel- 
ling."* Tanacharlson said, that when he visited the fort, he had 
been received in a very stern manner by the late commander, 
(who had since died,) who asked him very abruptly, what he had 
come about, and what was his business. He said that he had 
answered in the following words : 

<< Fathers, I am come to tell you your own speeches ; what 
your own mouths have declared. Fathers, you in former days 
set a silver basin before us, wherein there was the leg of a beaver, 
and desired all the nations to come and eat of it, to eat in peace 
and plenty, and not to be churlish to one another ; and that if any 
person should be found to be a disturber, I here lay down by the 
edge of the dish a rod, which you must scourge him with ; and 
if your father should get foolish in my old days, I desire you 
may use it upon me as well as others. 

"Now, fathers, it is you who are the disturbers in this land, by 
coming and building your towns ; and taking it away unknown 
to us, and by force. 

* Washington's Journal. 



INTERVIEW WITH TANACHARISON. 57 

" Fathers, we kindled a fire long time ago, at a place called Mon- 
treal, where we desired you to stay, and not to come and intrude 
upon our land. I now desire you may despatch to that place; for 
be it known to you, fathers, that this is our land, and not yours. 

<< Fathers, I desire you may hear me in civilness ; if not, we 
must handle that rod which was laid down for the use of the 
obstreperous. If you had come in a peaceable manner, like our 
brothers, the English, we would not have been against your trad- 
ing with us as they do ; but to come, fathers, and build houses 
upon our land, and to take it by force, is what we cannot submit to. 

"Fathers, both you and the English are white; we live in a 
country between ; therefore, the land belongs to neither one nor 
the other. But the Great Being above allowed it to be a place 
of residence for us ; so, fathers, I desire you to withdraw, as I 
have done our brothers the English ; for I will keep you at arm's 
length. I lay this down as a trial for both, to see which will have 
the greatest regard to it, and that side we will stand by, and make 
equal sharers with us. Our brothers the English have heard this, 
and I come now to tell it to you ; for I am not afraid to discharge 
you off this land." 

This patriotic and heroic, though simple speech, was answered 
by the general. The following is the substance of his speech as 
reported by the Half-King to Major Washington, and published 
by him in his interesting journal of this expedition. 

"Now, my child," the general said, " I have heard your speech ; 
you spoke first, but it is my time to speak now. Where is my 
wampum that you took away, with the marks of towns in it ? 
This wampum I do not know which you have discharged me off 
the land with : but you need not put yourself to the trouble of 
speaking, for I will not hear you. I am not afraid of flies or 
musquitoes, for Indians are such as those; I tell you down that 
river I will go, and build upon it according to my command. If 
the river was blocked up, I have forces sufficient to burst it open, 
and tread under my feet all that stand in opposition, together with 
their alliances ; for my force is as the sand upon the sea-shore ; 
therefore here is your wampum ; I sling it at you. Child, you 
talk foolishly ; you say this land belongs to you, but there is not 
the black of my nail yours. I saw that land sooner than you did, 
before the Shannoahs and you were at war. Lead was the man 
who went down and took possession of that river. It is my land 
and I will have it, let who will stand up for, or say against it. 



58 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

I will buy and sell with the English ! (mockingly.) If people 
will be ruled by me, they may expect kindness, but not else." 

The sachems met in council on the 26th of November. Major 
Washington addressed them and explained the objects of his mis- 
sion in the following speech : 

"Brothers," said he, "I have called you together in council, 
by order of your brother, the governor of Virginia, to acquaint 
you that I am sent with all possible despatch, to visit and deliver 
a letter to the French commandant, of very great importance to 
your brothers the English, and I dare say to you their friends and 
allies. 

"I was desired, brothers, by your brother the governor, to call 
upon you, the sachems of nations, to inform you of it, and ask 
your advice and assistance to proceed the nearest and best road 
to the French. You see, brothers, I have gotten thus far on my 
journey. 

"His honour likewise desired me to apply to you for some of 
your young men to conduct and provide provisions for us on our 
way ; and be a safeguard against those French Indians who have 
taken up the hatchet against us. I have spoken thus particularly 
to you, brothers, because his honour our governor treats you as 
good friends and allies, and holds you in great esteem. To con- 
firm what I have said, I give you this string of wampum." 

The chiefs received the token of friendship and alliance, and 
after a short consultation, deputed Tanacharison to answer in the 
name of the whole. He said, 

"Now, my brother, in regard to what my brother the governor 
had desired of me, I return you this answer. 

"I rely upon you as a brother ought to do, as you say we are 
brothers, and one people. We shall put heart in hand, and speak 
to our fathers, the French, concerning the speech they made to 
me; and you may depend that we will endeavour to be your 
guard. 

"Brother, as you have asked my advice, I hope you will be 
ruled by it, and stay until I can provide a company to go with 
you. The French speech belt is not here; I have it to go for to 
my hunting cabin. Likewise, the people whom I have ordered 
in are not yet come, and cannot until the third night from this ; 
until which time, brother, I must beg you to stay. 

"I intend to send the guard of Mingos, Shannoahs, and Dela- 
wares, that our brothers may see the love and loyalty we bear 
;hem." 



WASHINGTON'S EMBASSY. 59 

The young men did not arrive on the third night, as the Indian 
had said, and the business being pressing, Major Washington 
determined to set out with what escort could be immediately fur- 
nished. Having made known his intention to the chiefs, they 
met at their council-house, and deputed Tanacharison and three 
others to attend him to the French fort. With this small escort 
he started on the 30th of November; and on the 4th of December 
reached Venango, an old Indian town, at the mouth of French 
Creek, on the Ohio, about sixty miles north of Logstown. This 
town was occupied by the French under Captain Joncaire, as an 
outpost. The French commandant affected to treat the young 
officer with great respect, though he used every means in his 
power to detain him. The Indians were intoxicated, and ren- 
dered incapable of attending to their business or proceeding on 
their journey. When that could not be kept up, Joncaire pre- 
tended that he w^as intrusted with the management of Indian 
affairs ; and Tanacharison found it necessary to spend another day 
to hold a council and have a talk about the incursions of the 
French on his hunting-grounds. The council ended, as Wash- 
ington knew it w^ould, where it began, Joncaire referring the 
Indian to the commander at the fort. Washington, during this 
short delay, succeeded, however, in gaining from Captain Joncaire 
information of the real designs of the French in building their 
forts and extending their settlements along the Ohio. Professing 
the greatest respect and friendship for Washington, and concern 
for the success of his journey, Joncaire, while holding him back, 
pretended to use all his power and the greatest expedition to 
accomplish his business with the Indians and send him forward. 
He told him where he would find the commandant, and gave him 
as many directions about the route as if he were going to travel 
alone and without guides. 

Washington succeeded with great difficulty in leaving Venango, 
about noon on the 7th ; but in consequence of excessive rains, 
followed by snow, and the bad travelling through many mires and 
swamps, he did not reach the station of the French commandant 
until the 11th, forty-one days after his departure from Williams- 
burg. 

The commandant, Legardeur de St. Pierre, received him kindly, 
and in two days gave him an answer to the governor's letter. 
During the two days spent at the fort, Washington embraced every 
opportunity of making himself acquainted with the defences of 
the place. He thus describes the fort in his journal : "It is situ- 



60 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

ated on the south or west fork of French Creek, near the water ; 
and is almost surrounded by the Creek, and a small branch of it 
which forms a kind of island. Four houses compose the sides. 
The bastions are made of piles driven into the ground, standing 
more than twelve feet above it, and sharp at the top ; with port- 
holes cut for the cannon, and loop-holes for the small arms to fire 
through. There are eight six-pound pieces mounted in each 
bastion, and one piece of four pound before the gate. In the 
bastions are a guard house, chapel, doctor's lodging, and the 
commander's private store : round which are laid platforms for 
the cannon and men to stand on. There are several barracks 
without the fort, for the soldiers' dwelling, covered, some with 
bark, and some with boards, made chiefly of logs. There are 
also several other houses, such as stables, smith's shop, &c. I 
could get no certain account of the number of men here ; but 
according to the best judgment I could form, there are an hun- 
dred, exclusive of officers, of which there are many. I also gave 
orders to the people who were with me, to take an exact account 
of the canoes which were hauled up to convey the forces down 
in the spring. This they did, and told fifty of birch bark, and 
an hundred and seventy of pine ; besides many others which were 
blocked out, in readiness for being made."* 

A plan which Washington afterwards made of this fort, was for- 
warded to the British government. 

Monsieur de St. Pierre, having consulted with Captain Reparti, 
the next officer in rank, prepared an answer to the letter of the 
governor, couched in a determined and firm, but respectful tone ; 
in which he said that as he acted by instructions from the governor 
of Canada, he could not comply with the summons to retire ; and 
that it was not his province nor his duty to discuss treaties, which 
should be referred to his superior. 

The weather continuing very inclement, and the horses of the 
party becoming daily weaker, Washington sent them with haste to 
Venango, intending, as M. de St. Pierre had oflfered him a canoe 
or two, to return to that place by water. The French commandant 
again endeavoured to detain the Indians, by means of presents 
and various artifices. But Washington succeeded in getting the 
whole party embarked, on the 16th of December. 

The passage down the creek was very tedious and fatiguing. 
"Several times," says Washington in his journal, "we had like 
to have been staved against rocks ; and many times all hands 

* Marshall's Notes, p. 8. 




■Washington's expedition to the i-rench post. 



WASHINGTON'S EMBASSY. 63 

were obliged to get out, and remain in the water half an hour or 
more, in getting over the shoals. At one place the ice had lodged, 
and made it impassable by water ; we were therefore obliged to 
carry our canoe across a neck of land a quarter of a mile over." 
They reached Venango on the 22d, which was distant from the 
fort, by the winding of the stream, about one hundred and thirty 
miles, and there found their horses. The proceedings of Wash- 
ington for the next five or six days will be best related in the 
words of his journal. They furnish a noble example of resolution 
and hardihood. 

« Our horses were now so weak and feeble, and the baggage 
so heavy, (as we were obliged to provide all the necessaries which 
the journey would require,) that we doubted much their performing 
it. Therefore, myself and others, except the drivers, who were 
obliged to ride, gave up our horses, for packs to assist along with 
the baggage. I put myself in an Indian walking-dress, and con- 
tinued with them three days, until I found there was no probability 
of their getting home in a reasonable time. The horses be- 
came less able to travel every day; the cold increased very 
fast ; and the roads were becoming much worse by a deep snow, 
continually freezing; therefore, as I was uneasy to get back to 
make report of my proceedings to his honour the governor, I de- 
termined to prosecute my journey, the nearest way through the 
woods on foot. Accordingly, I left Mr. Van Braam in charge of 
our baggage, with money and directions to provide necessaries 
from place to place for themselves and horses, and to make the 
most convenient despatch in travelling. 

"I took my necessary papers, pulled off my clothes, and tied 
myself up in a watch-coat. Then, with gun in hand, and pack on 
my back, in which were my papers and provisions, I set out with 
Mr. Gist, fitted in the same manner, on Wednesday, the 26th. 
The day following, just after we had passed a place called Mur- 
dering Town, (where we intended to quit the path and steer across 
the country for Shanapin's Town,) we "fell in with a party of 
French Indians who had lain in wait for us. One of them fired 
at Mr. Gist or me, not fifteen steps off, but fortunately missed. 
We took this fellow into custody, and kept him until about nine 
o'clock at night, then let him go, and walked all the remaining 
part of the night without making any stop, that we might get the 
start so far as to be out of the reach of pursuit the next day, since 
we were well assured they would follow our track as soon as it 
was light. The next day we continued travelling until quite 



64 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

dark, and got to the river about two miles above Shanapin's. 
We expected to have found the river frozen, but it was not, only 
about fifty yards from each shore. The ice, I suppose, had 
broken up above, for it was driving in vast quantities. 

« There was no way for getting over but on a raft, which w^e set 
about making with but one poor hatchet, and finished just after sun- 
setting. This was a whole day's work. We next got it launched, 
then went on board and set off, but before we were halfway over, 
we were jammed in the ice in such a manner that we expected 
every moment our rEift to sink, and ourselves to perish. I put out 
my setting pole to try to stop the raft, that the ice might pass by, 
when the rapidity of the stream threw it with so much violence 
against the pole, that it jerked me out into ten feet water; but I 
fortunately saved myself by catching hold of one of the raft logs. 
Notwithstanding all our efforts, we could not get to either shore, 
but were obliged, as we were near an island, to quit our raft and 
make to it. 

"The cold was so extremely severe, that Mr. Gist had all his 
fingers and some of his toes frozen, and the water was shut up so 
hard that we found no difficulty in getting off the island the next 
morning on the ice, and went to Mr. Frazier's. We met here 
with twenty warriors who were going to the southward to war ; 
but coming to a place at the head of the Great Kenawha, where they 
found seven people killed and scalped, (all but one woman with 
very light hair,) they turned about and ran back, for fear the inha- 
bitants should rise, and take them as the authors of the murders. 
They report that the bodies were lying about the house, and some 
of them much torn and eaten by the hogs. By the marks which 
were left, they say they were French Indians of the Ottowa 
nation, &c., who did it. As we intended to take horses here, 
and it required some time to find them, I went up about three 
miles to the mouth of the Yohogany, to visit Queen Alliquippa, 
who had expressed great concern that we had passed her in 
going to the fort. I made her a present of a watch-coat and a 
bottle of rum, which latter was thought much the best present of 
the two." 

They left Mr. Frazier's on Tuesday the first day of January, 
1754, and the next day arrived at Mr. Gist's, at Monongahela. 
On the 6th they arrived at Wills's Creek, after a very fatiguing 
and disagreeable journey. "From the 1st of December to the 
15th," says Washington, "there was but one day on which it did 
not rain or snow incessantly ; and throughout the whole journey, 



WASHINGTON'S EMBASSY. 



65 



we met with nothing but one continued series of cold, wet wea- 
ther, which occasioned very uncomfortable lodgings." 

On the 16th, Major Washington arrived at Williamsburg, where 
he waited on the governor, delivered the letter of the French 
commandant, and gave him an account of his proceedings since 
his departure. This he did by presenting his journal to the 
governor, who expressed his entire approbation of every act of 
the young officer. The journal was published by Governor Din- 
widdie, with Washington's consent, and copied into nearly every 
newspaper in the Colonies and Great Britain. It was the first 
authentic information of the designs of the French against the 
British xlmerican Colonies which was ever made public. 




OHENADIER. TIME OF GUOntlE 



F 2 



66 



LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 




BEMA-INS OF THE MAOAZINE OF FORT DUQUE3NE. 




CHAPTER IV. 

IHE intentions and acts of the French being made 
known by Major Washington to Governor Dinwid- 
die, and by him reported to the British ministers, 
they, seeing the danger which menaced their Ame- 
rican colonies, took immediate measures to repel 
the French, and ordered their officers, in case of 
invasion, to oppose force by force, promising the aid of the mother 
country if it should be necessary. The danger being equally 
great to all the colonies, a confederacy for mutual defence was 
recommended, and each one was urged to contribute its propor- 
tion to the general defence, in case of need. 

The governor of Virginia, having no doubt that his territory 
was actually invaded, now called upon the governors of New York 
and North Carolina to aid him in repelling the French invaders. 
He was authorized by the Earl of Holdernesse to call for two inde- 
pendent companies from New York and one from North Carolina. 
Conceiving the danger to be imminent, and of too urgent a 
nature to admit of the delay which would be consequent upon a 
call of the House of Burgesses, Governor Dinwiddle laid the sub- 
ject before his council, who issued an order for the immediate 
raising of two companies of volunteers, of one hundred men each, 
and their confidence in Major Washington was so great that he 



FORT DUQUESNE. 67 

was appointed to the command of these two companies, apparently 
without a dissenting voice.* 

The principal object of the council in these hasty proceedings, 
was to send forward a force, to act upon Washington's recommen- 
dation and build a fort at the junction of the Alleghany and Mo- 
nongahela Rivers. Accordingly, while Major Washington was 
stationed at Alexandria to receive the volunteers and forward sup- 
plies and cannon for the intended fort, the command of one of the 
companies was given to Captain Trent, who was sent forward to 
raise men among the back-settlers and traders, and proceed at 
once to occupy the position before the French parties from the 
south and the north could unite, and set up the claim of prior 
possession. 

The governor, in his instructions to Major Washington on this 
occasion, ordered him, after having every thing in readiness, to 
proceed with all expedition to the fork of the Ohio, and there act 
on the defensive ; but in case any person attempted to interrupt 
or obstruct the completion of the works, to restrain all such 
offenders, or, in case of resistance, to make prisoners of, or kill 
and destroy them. For the rest, he was to conduct himself as the 
circumstances of the service should require, and to act as he 
should think best for the furtherance of his majesty's service and 
the good of Virginia. 

Having made these preliminary arrangements, Governor Din- 
widdle summoned the legislature to meet at an early day, to take 
into consideration the critical state of the colony. When they 
assembled, they were found to be in what the governor called 
"a republican way of thinking," and far from being as zealous as 
himself in the prosecution of violent measures. It was with the 
greatest difficulty that he obtained from them an appropriation of 
ten thousand pounds, and even that was voted "for the encourage- 
ment and protection of the settlers on the Mississippi ;" the legis- 
lators wishing, if possible, to prevent a rupture with France, and 
restrain the prerogatives of the crown. 

With the aid thus granted, the governor was induced to increase 
the military force to six companies of fifty men each. With a 
modesty, the more rare because unaffected, and which in after- 
life was never lost, Washington declined being a candidate for 
the command of this regiment. In a conversation with Colonel 
Corbin, a member of the council, which had taken place some 
time previously, Washington was led to hope for a commission 

' Sparks. 



68 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

above that of major ; but now, fearing that the friendship of the 
colonel might lead him to neglect the true interests of his country, 
the future commander-in-chief of the American armies thus ad- 
dressed him. '< The command of the whole forces is what I 
neither look for, expect, or desire ; for I must be impartial enough 
to confess, it is a charge too great for my youth and inexperience 
to be intrusted with. Knowing this, I have too sincere a love for 
my country to undertake that which may tend to the prejudice of 
it. But, if I could entertain hopes that you thought me worthy 
of the post of lieutenant-colonel, and would favour me so far as to 
mention it at the appointment of officers, I could not but entertain 
a true sense of the kindness. 

"I flatter myself that under a skilful commander, or man of 
sense, (which I most sincerely wish to serve under,) with my own 
application and diligent study of my duty, I shall be able to con- 
duct my steps without censure, and, in time, render myself worthy 
of the promotion that I shall be favoured with now," 

On this, as on every other occasion of his life, Washington, 
though well qualified for the highest stations, was extremely un- 
willing to seek them. His request was granted. Colonel Joshua 
Fry was appointed to the chief command, and Washington was 
made lieutenant-colonel. 

Both these officers now made the greatest exertions to hasten 
the necessary preparations, and Governor Dinwiddle, in order to 
give alacrity to the recruiting service, issued a proclamation, 
granting two hundred thousand acres of land, on the Ohio River, 
to be distributed among the officers and soldiers who should en- 
gage in this expedition. This grant was approved by the king, 
but it was not until some time after the close of the war, that the 
government, instigated principally by Washington, caused the 
land to be surveyed and divided. 

While Lieutenant-Colonel Washington was stationed at Alex- 
andria, an incident took place, which brought to light the moral 
strength of his character, while, at the same time, it unfolded his 
opinion with respect to the practice of duelling, a practice suitable 
only to the dark ages in which it originated. This occurrence 
took place during an election for members of the House of Bur- 
gesses, the opposing candidates being Colonel George Fairfax and 
Mr. Elzey. The warm friendship which existed between Wash- 
ington and Colonel Fairfax, led him to speak in strong terms of 
the fitness of his friend for the office, and m the course of his 
remarks he gave offence to a man named Payne, who raised his 



A DUEL PREVENTED. 69 

stick and struck Washington with such force that he knocked him 
down. This naturally excited the indignation of such of the 
officers as were present, and a tumult ensued, which it required 
all the authority of Washington to subdue. When he had in 
some degree restored order, and pacified the incensed feelings of 
his officers, he retired to his lodgings in the public house. He 
immediately wrote a note to Mr. Payne, asking to see him at the 
tavern in the morning. Payne, expecting nothing but a challenge, 
repaired accordingly to the place appointed, but found Washing- 
ton prepared to make a full apology, and ask his pardon for an 
offence given in an unguarded moment. Payne, admiring the 
great courage of the man who dared to face the reproach of his 
fellow-man, instantly apologized for his cowardly assault, and a 
friendship was formed between the two men, which is said to have 
lasted as long as they lived. "How noble and becoming was 
this conduct. It was especially admirable in a youthful soldier, 
whose very profession exposed him to peculiar temptations on 
such an occasion. How many would have been driven by the 
fear of reproach, and dread of unfavourable insinuations, to incur 
the hazards of a duel ; thus offering up at the shrine of honour 
the costly sacrifice of human life. It was not possible that a man 
like Washington, so endowed with moral courage and regard for 
virtue, should be moved by the fear of man to such a course. He 
dreaded not the charge of cowardice from the mouths of fools. 
In his own bosom he had its ample refutation. He was conscious 
of a fortitude which no dangers could shake. To display it in 
murdering a fellow-citizen was not his ambition. He had before 
him the tented field and the enemies of his country, and he was 
pledged for the hazards of a mortal conflict in her defence. Here 
he was willing to show his courage, and lay down his life. He 
would not do so to gratify revenge, or win applause from the 
vain."* 

So impatient was Washington to be engaged in active service, 
that early in April, 1754, he solicited and obtained permission to 
advance, with two of the companies which were completed, to a 
place called the Great Meadows, in the Alleghany Mountains, 
where he would be better able to protect the frontier of Virginia, 
act as a check upon the incursions of hostile savages, and also 
form a connecting link between the principal recruiting station at 
Alexandria, and the advanced company under Captain Trent. 

He reached Will's Creek on the 24th of April, where he found 
* McGuire. 



70 



LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 



Captain Trent actively engaged in raising recruits for his company, 
which at the time was thought to be at the new fort, at the junc- 
tion of the Alleghany and Monongahela Rivers; but great was the 
disappointment of Washington, when, on the evening of the same 
day, Ensign Ward, who had been left in command by Captain 
Trent, entered his camp and informed him, that on the 17th in- 
stant the fort had been surrendered to the French. This work 
had but lately been commenced, and was not, when threatened, in 
a fit condition for defence. It was garrisoned by but forty-one men, 
and the captain and lieutenant were both absent. Mr. Ward reported 
that on the 17th of April, Captain Contrecoeur advanced against 
the incomplete works, with a thousand men and eighteen cannon, 
which had been transported from Venango in three hundred ca- 
noes and sixty batteaux. The French captain planted his artil- 
lery against the fort, drew up his men, and sent a summons to the 
English, demanding their surrender within an hour. Seeing no 
alternative, Mr. Ward surrendered the works, and was permitted 
to retire with his men, arms, and working tools. 

HE capture of this military post by the French 
was considered by Washington as an actual 
invasion of the frontiers of the colony, a com- 
mencement of the war, and he conceived it 
to be his duty, in compliance with his instruc- 
tions, to march forward, and prepare to meet 
the invaders wherever they might appear. 
This opinion was confirmed by a council of war ; and it was 
resolved to proceed immediately to the mouth of the Red Stone 
Creek, which enters the Monongahela about thirty-seven miles 
above the fort taken by the French, and there to construct such 
defences as circumstances would admit, and await the reinforce- 
ments which were expected under Colonel Fry. Accordingly, on 
the 1st of May, the little army, having been reinforced by the 
company of Captain Stephens, and now numbering three com- 
panies of fifty men each, set out from Will's Creek, and advanced 
by slow marches through the wilderness, making the roads as 
they advanced fit for the transportation of stores and cannon. In 
this way they advanced until they arrived at the Great Meadows, 
where, having certain information of the advance and near ap- 
proach of the French, Washington cleared a space of its brush 
and underwood, and threw up a slight intrenchment. On the 
morning of the 27th of May, Mr. Gist arrived in camp and reported 




SKIRMISH WITH THE FRENCH. 71 

that he had seen the trail of a party which he was sure were French 
within five miles of the Great Meadows. Leaving a strong guard 
at the intrenchment, Washington advanced with forty men in 
search of the French. He started about ten o'clock at night, and 
arrived at the French encampment a short time before sunrise. 
Tanacharison, or the Half-King, accompanied Washington in this 
expedition with a few Indians. When they arrived in sight of 
the French camp, which was in a retired position, Washington 
made his dispositions for the attack, placing his men on the right 
and the Indians on the left. Advancing in this manner, they 
were soon discovered by the French, who ran to their arms and 
prepared for their defence. Washington then ordered his men to 
fire, and a skirmish commenced, which continued for about fifteen 
minutes, when the French, to the number of twenty-one, surren- 
dered. The number of their killed was ten, including their com- 
mander Jumonville. Washington's loss was one man killed and 
two or three wounded. 

A loud clamor was raised on this occasion by the French, who 
declared that Jumonville was merely the bearer of a summons, 
and that his death was an act of positive assassination. Wash- 
ington did not deign to reply to such an absurd charge ; but his 
friends have observed, that the great numbers of the French, and 
their cautious mode of approaching, did not at all accord with 
the representation of their being political envoys, but, coupled 
with the previous violence, gave every ground to believe that they 
intended to make good their pretensions by force. 

Colonel Fry had at length raised three additional companies, 
and was advancing to take the command, but died suddenly on 
the wa3^ The command then devolved upon Washington, who 
was soon after reinforced by two companies of regulars under 
Captain Mackey, increasing the forces at the Great Meadows to 
about four hundred men. Having enlarged the entrenchments at 
the Great Meadows, and erected palisades, Washington, leaving 
the regulars under Captain Mackey to defend the post, advanced 
with the remainder of his forces towards the fort at the forks, which 
the French had named Du Quesne. He had proceeded but thir- 
teen miles, when he was met by some friendly Indians, who in- 
formed him that a body of eight hundred French and four hun- 
dred Indians were advancing rapidly to meet him. In this ex- 
tremity, a council of war was held, and the great superiority of 
the enemy, which had been clearly ascertained, leaving no hope 
of successful resistance, a retreat was determined upon. In two 



72 



LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 




days they reached the Stockade fort at the Great Meadows, and 
the soldiers being excessively fatigued and the horses weak for 
want of food, it was found impossible to retreat farther. Accord- 
ingly, Washington had no choice but to strengthen the defences 
of the small fort, which was now named, from the circumstances 
of its use. Fort Necessity, and wait the arrival of reinforcements, 
or meet the enemy behind the enclosure, imperfect as it was. 

HOSE of the soldiers who were not completely 
worn out by their incessant duties were imme- 
diately employed in felling trees to increase 
the height of the breastwork, and digging a 
ditch around the entrenchment. Their labours, 
however, were far from being completed, when, 
on the morning of the 3d of July, a wounded 
sentinel ran into the enclosure and gave infor- 
mation of the near approach of the French, with their savage 
allies. They appeared before Fort Necessity about eleven o'clock, 
in number between nine hundred and a thousand, and com- 
manded by Monsieur de Villiers. 

Washington having stationed his small body of men on the 
outside of the trenches, bravely awaited the approach of the 
enemy, who without leaving the woods commenced firing at the 
distance of six hundred yards. As they showed no intention of 
approaching nearer, Washington withdrew his men to the enclosure, 
with orders to fire at discretion. The French kept their position 
behind the trees and among the high grass, where they maintained 
an incessant fire of musketry till eight o'clock in the evening. 
The Americans fought with intrepidity, firing wherever an enemy 
presented himself, or aiming at the flash or smoke caused by the 
discharge of their muskets. During the greater part of the day 
the rain fell in torrents, rendering the position of the small garrison 
very uncomfortable, and making it difficult to use their arms with 
precision or certainty. In this way the battle continued with no 
signal advantage on either side until dark, when De Villiers de- 
manded a parley. This was at first refused by Washington, who 
thought it only a feint to introduce a Frenchman within the en- 
closure to discover and report the weakness of the garrison ; but 
it being soon after renewed, with the request that he would send 
an officer to the French camp, to confer with the commanding 
officer, at the same time giving the strongest assurances of the 
safety of the officer, Washington hesitated no longer, but sent out 
his old interpreter Captain Van Braam, who soon returned with 



SURRENDER OF FORT NECESSITY. 73 

proposed articles of capitulation. The proposals first made were 
rejected by Washington, but some changes having been effected 
by mutual agreement, both parties signed the articles of capitula- 
tion about midnight.* 

By the terms of capitulation, the English were allowed to march 
out of the fort the next morning with all the honours of war, with 
drums beating and colours flying. They w^ere permitted to retain 
their baggage, and every thing in their possession except their 
artillery ; and were assured of a safe retreat into the inhabited 
parts of the country. As the greater part of the horses had been 
killed, Washington was allowed to leave his baggage, under a 
guard, until he could forward horses to remove it, while he on his 
part agreed to restore the prisoners who had been taken in the 
skirmish with Jumonville. 

About 10 o'clock, on the morning of the 4th of July, 1754, Wash- 
ington, at the head of his regiment, and with the honours of war, 
evacuated Fort Necessity, and took up the line of march in perfect 
order for Virginia. Fifty-eight of the Virginians, and two hun- 
dred of the French had been killed and wounded during the en- 
gagement. The safe conduct granted byDeVilliers was violated, 
he suffering the Indians which were attached to his army to plun- 
der the retreating soldiers. 

The courage and ability of Washington, in thus successfully 
resisting for a whole day an army of more than twice his num- 
ber, and then obtaining honourable terms of capitulation, raised 
him in the estimation of the whole country, and he received the 
cordial approbation of the governor, as soon as he returned to 
Williamsburg. When the House of Burgesses assembled, they 
unanimously voted the thanks of the assembly to Colonel Wash- 
ington and his officers and soldiers, "for their bravery, and the 
gallant manner in which they had conducted themselves in tjae 
defence of the country." A resolution was also passed, graaong 
an appropriation of four hundred pistoles to be distributed^^jmaong 
the soldiers who had aided the expedition. / 

The assembly met in October, 1754, and made an ap|5ropriation 
of twenty thousand pounds for the public service, and soon after 
ten thousand pounds, in specie, was forwarded from England for 
the same purpose. The governor immediately enlarged the army 
to ten companies of one hundred men each, and reduced the 
whole to the establishment of independent companies, thus making 
captains the highest officers in the Virginia regiments. And even 

* Sparks. 

10 G 



74 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

they, inferior to those of the same grade holding the commission 
of the king. This new arrangement, reducing Colonel Washington 
to the rank of captain, and placing him under officers whom he 
was accustomed to command, rendered his continuance in the 
army very disagreeable.* 

Professional pride and dignified self-respect were always among 
Washington's most marked characteristics. Notwithstanding his 
ardent devotion to a military life, he resolved at once to resign 
a station which he believed was no longer to be held without 
personal dishonour, and his commission was immediately returned 
into the hands of the governor of Virginia. He retired to Mount 
Vernon, and there resided until a new call was made upon his 
services, in that name to whose appeal he was never deaf or 
wanting.! 

After the unsuccessful expedition of Washington, the colonists 
began seriously to feel the want of some general system of co- 
operation against their formidable enemy. Those who were most 
immediately exposed to attack, complained that upon them alone 
was throw^n the whole burden of repelling it ; and the English 
government was at length induced to recommend the meeting of 
a convention of delegates at Albany, to form a league with the 
Six Nations of Indians, and to concert among themselves a plan 
of united operations for defence, against the common enemy. 
The New England States, together with New York, Pennsylvania, 
and Maryland, adopted the advice, and appointed deputies, who 
assembled in June, 1754, and after a pacific treaty with the Six 
Nations undertook the more important subject committed to their 
deliberations. The delegates were unanimous in resolving that a 
union of the colonies was essential to the general safety, and ought 
to be accomplished as speedily as possible. But then the difficulty 
of proposing such a plan of union as would be at the same time 
acceptable to the colonies and the British government, arose, 
and put an end to unanimity. Among the delegates from Penn- 
sylvania, appeared Benjamin Franklin, who even at this early 
date ranked as one of the most intelligent and distinguished citi- 
zens of America. Rising from the humble station of journeyman 
printer, he had already acquired a paramount influence in his 
own state of Pennsylvania, and had been appointed postmaster- 
general of America, a situation which he retained until near the 
commencement of the Revolution, when he was displaced by the 
British court. He proposed to his fellow-members of the con- 
* Sparks, p. 56, 57. f Ed. Cyclo. 



THE ALBANY CONVENTION. 



75 




vention the Albany plan 
of union, which provided 
for a general government, 
consisting of a president, 
appointed by the crown; 
and of a council of repre- 
tatives from the several 
colonies. To this govern- 
ment was to be intrusted 
the ofeneral direction of 
war, peace, treaties, and 
transactions with the In- 
dians. They were to have 
the power of imposing 
such taxes as might be 
deemed necessary for 
these purposes, and their 
acts, if not disallowed by 
the king within three years, were to acquire the force of law. 
They might also levy troops, the commanding officers being nomi- 
nated by the president, and approved by the council. Civil offi- 
cers were to be appointed by the counsel with the consent of the 
president. 

This scheme gained the approbation of all the delegates except 
those from Connecticut, who objected to the authority conferred 
on the president, and the power of general taxation ; but when sub- 
mitted to the legislatures of the several colonies, they all, without 
exception, considered the powers which it proposed to grant to 
the new government, especially that of direct taxation, as far too 
great to be placed in the hands of a body over whom each had 
so little control. It was accounted by them far too favourable to 
the royal prerogative. Its reception was equally unfavourable in 
the British cabinet, who viewed it, not without reason, as con- 
ceding too much power to the representatives of the people, and 
rendering America almost entirely independent. Thus the plan, 
recommended as it was by such high authority, proved wdiolly 
abortive, though its discussion undoubtedly had some effiict in 
preparing the minds of the people for a similar union, in the 
struggle which resulted in the independence of the United States.* 
The plan of thus uniting the colonies failing, the British min- 
istry determined to take the conduct of the war into their own 

* Murray. Grahaine. 




76 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

hands. First, making warm remonstrances to the court of France, 
and receiving, in return, nothing but pacific promises, they resolved 
to employ such a force in America as would compel the French 
to retire from their present advanced position, and, for the future, 
keep within their own acknowledged territory. 

CCORDINGLY, in January, 1755, General 
Braddock was despatched from Ireland, with 
two regiments of infantry, to co-operate with 
the Virginian forces in recoverinof the com- 
mand of the Ohio. The arrival of Braddock 
excited enthusiastic hopes among the colo- 
nists. The different provinces seemed to 
forget their disputes with each other, and 
with Great Britain, and to enter into a resolution to chastise the 
French, at whatever cost. At the request of the British com- 
mander, a meeting of the governors of five of the colonies was 
held at Alexandria, at which they determined to undertake three 
simultaneous expeditions. The first of these was to be conducted 
by Braddock, with the British troops against Fort Duquesne ; 
the second, under the command of Governor Shirley, now ho- 
noured with the commission of a general from the king, was 
intended for the reduction of the French fort of Niagara, and was 
composed of American regulars and Indians ; the third, was an 
expedition against Crown Point, to be undertaken by a regiment 
of militia. 

General Braddock brought with him an order of the king, dated 
November 12th, 1754, the design of which was to regulate the 
comparative rank of the regular and provincial officers. The 
general and field-officers of the colonies were divested of all rank 
while serving with officers of the same grade commissioned by 
the king, or his general commanding in America, and company 
officers of the same rank were directed to give precedence to the 
regulars without regard to seniority in the date of their com- 
missions. This order rendered the separation of Washington from 
the army wider than ever. His passion for a military life, how- 
ever, was not in the least degree weakened, and could he have 
held his rank, he would have hastened to join the army which 
in February ascended the Potomac. 

His wishes were soon favoured ; for General Braddock con- 
sidering his military talents and local knowledge essential to the 



JOINS GENERAL BRADDOCK. 77 

success of the expedition, he invited him to join it with the rank 
of aide-de-camp in his military family. 

Though Washington found himself, at this juncture, greatly 
embarrassed with his private affairs, having no person in whom he 
could confide to intrust with the manao-ement of them, he gfladlv 
accepted the appointment, with the proviso that the general would 
permit his return, as soon as the active part of the campaign 
should be over, if he desired it ; or if there should be a space of 
inaction long enough to permit him to visit home, he might be 
allowed to take advantage of it.* 

Braddock gladly acceded to the desire expressed by Wash- 
ington, and marching towards the interior, was joined by him at 
Frederic Town. The army then proceeded in two columns to 
Winchester, and thence to Will's Creek, where they arrived about 
the middle of May. 

As soon as Washington arrived in the British camp, he was 
appointed one of the general's aides-de-camp, and this appoint- 
ment was proclaimed to the army, in general orders, on the 10th 
of May. 

The army was detained three weeks at Will's Creek, by the 
failure of the* Virginian contractors to furnish the wagons and 
horses, which, according to the European rules of warfare, were 
indispensable. This evil was finally obviated by the exertions of 
Benjamin Franklin, who was then postmaster-general of America, 
and had visited the camp for the purpose of facilitating the trans- 
mission of the mail to and from the army and the settlements. 
He, by great exertions, and by using his influence with the 
farmers of Pennsylvania, succeeded in procuring these supplies. 
In the mean time, Washington, conscious of the fact that the suc- 
cess of the expedition would, in a great degree, depend upon the 
celerity with which they advanced, advised the general to make 
use of pack-horses in conveying the baggage, and not to wait for 
the wagons. In support of this advice, he stated that the French 
were known to be weak on the Ohio, but they were hourly ex- 
pecting reinforcements, and, at the same time, the continued 
drought had so dried up the streams that neither troops nor pro- 
visions could be corrreyed by them to Venango, or Fort Du- 
quesne. This prudent advice was overruled by a council of war, 
by which it was declared extremely rash, and contrary to esta- 
bhshed custom. 

^\^lile the army was thus constrained to remain in inactivity, 

* Washington's Writings, vol. ii. p. 71. 
G 2 



78 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

Washington received with pleasure an order from General Brad- 
dock, to return to Williamsburg, and bring to the camp four thou- 
sand pounds, for the use of the army. He executed this commis- 
sion with promptness and effect, and arrived with his charge safe 
in camp, on the 30th of May, though he had been compelled to 
wait a day in Winchester, in expectation of an escort of cavalry. 
This escort not arriving in time, he was obliged to make use of a 
small guard of the militia. 

One hundred and fifty wagons, the number promised by Frank- 
lin, having arrived, the army, on the 10th of June, commenced the 
march for the Ohio ; but now, new obstacles sprung up before 
them. The nature of the road which they were traversing made 
it necessary to double the teams of horses, which over an ordinary 
road would have been sufficient to drag the w^agons. This caused 
unavoidable delay, and the general, becoming impatient, began 
to think, and not without reason, that the season for military 
operations would be consumed before he would be able to reach 
Fort Duquesne. He called a council of war to consider what was to 
be done, but before the meeting of the council, he privately asked 
Washington's opinion concerning the expedition. "I urged him," 
says Washington in a letter to his younger brother, "in the 
warmest terms I was able, to push forward, if he even did il, with 
a small but chosen band, with such artillery and light stores as 
were necessary ; leaving the heavy artillery, baggage, and the 
like, with the rear division of the army, to follow by slow and easy 
marches, which they might do safely, while we were advanced in 
front." 

This advice prevailed in the council, and being approved by 
the general, he advanced on the 19th of June, with tw^elve hun- 
dred chosen men, and officers from all the different corps, leaving 
the remainder, with most of the wagons, under the command of 
Colonel Dunbar, with instructions to follow as fast as he could. 
Notwithstanding this arrangement, Braddock advanced very 
slowly, "halting to level every mole-hill, and to erect bridges 
over every brook, by which means he was four days in advancing 
twelve miles." 

At this time Washington was suffering from the effects of a 
severe fever. On the 14th, but three days after the army com- 
menced its march from Will's Creek, he was attacked by a violent 
fever and pain in the head, which continued without intermission 
for nine days. On the 23d, the fever and pain began to abate. 
His illness was too violent to suffer him to ride on horseback, 



MARCH OF GENERAL BRADDOCK. 79 

and he soon found it necessary to make use of a covered wagon ; 
but the jolting was so great that he could continue in it but a 
short time, at the rate of the advanced detachment. He was 
accordingly advised, by the general, to wait the arrival of Colonel 
Dunbar's detachment, which was two days' march behind. On his 
manifestinsr a strong disinclination to be left behind, the doctor 
declared that if he persevered in his determination to go on, in 
the condition in which he then was, his life would be endan- 
gered. This, with the promise of the general, that he should 
be brought up before he reached the French fort, induced him to 
halt and await Dunbar's detachment. He continued with the 
rear division two weeks, when he was so far recovered as to bear 
the fatigue of quick travelling in a covered wagon. In this way, 
on the 8th of July, he rejoined the advanced division, and on the 
next day, the day of the battle, attended the general on horseback, 
though still very weak. 

N joining Braddock's division on the 8th, at the 
mouth of the Youghiogany, Washington was 
surprised to find them, though within fifteen 
miles of the fort, marching in regular European 
order, in as perfect security as if they were on 
the wide plains of the Eastern Hemisphere ; or 
in a peaceful review, on a field day, in England. 
They marched without advanced guards or scouts ; and the offer 
of Washington to scour the woods, in front and on the flanks, with 
his Virginian provincials, was haughtily rejected. 

A considerable bend in the Monongahela river, and the nature 
of the banks, made it necessary for the army to cross it twice 
before they reached the fort. On the morning of the ninth of July, 
every thing being in readiness, the whole train crossed the river 
in perfect order, a short distance below the mouth of the Youghio- 
gany, and took up their line of march along its southern bank, in 
high spirits. The garrison of the fort was understood to be small, 
and quite inadequate to resist the force now brought to bear upon 
it ; exulting hope filled every heart ; and no one doubted that he 
should see the British fliag waving, next day, over the battlements ; 
and the enemy obliged to retire to Canada, or surrender them- 
selves prisoners of war. The march on that morning is described 
as a splendid spectacle ; being made in full military array, in 
exact order, the sun glancing from the burnished bayonets to the 
scarlet uniform of the regulars, with a majestic river on the right, 
and dark, deep woods on the left. Not an enemy appeared, and 




80 



LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 




BATTLE-GHOnND OP THE MONONGAHELA. 

the most profound silence reigned over this wild territory. The 
only countenance among them which was clouded with care or 
concern was that of Washington, who, as he rode beside the 
general, vainly represented that the profound silence and apparent 
solitude of the gloomy scenes around them afforded no security 
in American warfare against deadly and imminent danger. 
Again, and still vainly, did he offer to scour the woods in front 
and on the left with the provincial troops. The general treated 
his fears as the effects of fever upon his brain, and the provincials 
were ordered to form the rear-guard of the detachment. 

About noon they reached the second crossing-place, within ten 
miles of Fort Duquesne, and at one o'clock had all crossed the 
river in safety. Three hundred men under Colonel Gage formed 
the advanced party, which was closely followed by a party of two 
hundred ; and last of all followed the general with the main body, 
consisting of about seven hundred men, the artjllery and baggage. 

After crossing the river, the road along which they marched led 
for about a half a mile through a low plain, and then commenced 
a gradual ascent of about three degrees, the prospect being shut 
in by hills in the distance. About a hundred and fifty yards from 
the bottom of this inclined plain, and about equi-distant from the 
road leading to the fort, commenced two ravines, from eight to ten 
feet deep, which led off in different directions until they ter- 
minated in the plain below. Covered as these ravines were with 



BRADDOCK'S DEFEAT. 81 

trees and long grass, and the British having no scouts, it was im- 
possible for them to discover their existence without approaching 
within a few feet of them. Up this inclined plain, between these 
ravines, General Braddock led his army on the afternoon of the 
9th of July. 

While the English were thus leisurely advancing, the scouts of 
the French kept the commandant of Fort Duquesne accurately 
informed of their motions and their numbers. Believing the small 
force under his command wholly inadequate to the defence of the 
fort against three thousand men, with a formidable park of artillery, 
as his scouts had represented them, he was hesitating what course 
to pursue, when Captain de Beaujeu offered to lead a small party 
of French and Indians to meet the enemy and harass his march. 
It required a great deal of persuasion to induce the Indians to 
engage in what they considered an impossible undertaking, but 
possessing their confidence, he finally subdued their unwillingness, 
and induced about six hundred of them to accompany him. With 
these and about two hundred and fifty French and Canadians, he 
intended to occupy the banks of the Monongahela, and harass 
the English as they crossed the river. It was only on the morning 
of the 9th, that he was ready to start on this expedition, and when 
he arrived near the river his spies reported that Braddock had 
already crossed. Finding that he was too late to pursue his 
original plan, De Beaujeu placed his followers in the ravines 
before mentioned, between which the English were seen advanc- 
ing along the road. 

When the three hundred under Gage came near the head of the 
ravines, a heavy discharge of musketry was poured in upon their 
front, and immediately after another upon their left flank. This 
was the first notice which they had of the presence of an enemy. 
Braddock was completely surprised. Gage ordered his men to 
fire, and though no enemy was visible, yet they poured such a 
discharge upon the spot where the smeke of the first fire was still 
to be seen, that the Indians, believing that it proceeded from 
artillery, were upon the point of retreating. Their indecision was 
but for an instant, for the advance falling back on the maili body, 
threw them into confusion ; and instead of following the example 
of the Indians and taking to the trees, or opening upon their invisi- 
ble foe a discharge of grape, they were ordered by Braddock to 
maintain their ranks and advance. Captain De Beaujeu was killed 
by the first discharge of Gage's men, and Captain Dumas, who 
succeeded him in the command, immediately rallied the Indians, 
11 



82 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

and sending them down the ravines, ordered them to attack the 
enemy on each flank, while he, with the French and Canadians, 
maintained his position in front. Then commenced a terrible car- 
nage. The British, panic-struck and bewildered, huddled together 
in squads, heeded not the commands of their officers, who were riding 
about madly urging them to advance, but they only fled from one side 
of the field to be met by the fire of an invisible foe on the other 
side; and then they would gather in small parties as if they hoped 
to shield themselves behind the bodies of their friends: firing: 
without aim, oftener shooting down their own officers and men 
than Indians, Their only hope would now have been to separate, 
rush behind the trees, and fight man to man with their assailants ; 
butBraddock insisted on forming them into platoons and columns, 
in order to make regular discharges, which struck only the trees, 
or tore up the ground in front. The Virginians alone seemed to 
retain their senses. Notwithstanding the prohibition of the 
general, they no sooner knew the enemy with whom they had to 
deal, than they adopted the Indian mode of fighting, and each 
for himself, behind a tree, manifested bravery worthy of a better 
fate. 

Meanwhile the French and Indians, secure behind their natural 
breastworks, aimed deliberately, first at the officers on horseback, 
and then at others, each shot bringing down a man. The leaders, 
selected by unerring aim, fell first. Captains Orme and Morris, 
two of the three aides-de-camp, were wounded early in the action, 
and Washington was the only person left to distribute the general's 
orders, which he was scarcely able to do, as he was not more than 
half recovered from his illness. Notwithstanding the neglect 
with which his warnings had been treated, he still aided his gene- 
ral with his mental as well as his physical powers ; though the 
troops lay thick around him in slaughtered heaps, he still gave 
the aid of salutary counsel to his ill-fated chief, and urged it with 
all the grace of eloquence, and all the force of conviction. Riding 
in every direction, his manly form drew the attention of the 
savages, and they doomed him to destruction. The murdering 
rifles w'ere levelled, the quick bullets flew winged with death, and 
pierced his garments ; but, obedient to the Sovereign will, they 
dared not shed his blood. One chieftain especially singled 
Washington out as a conspicuous mark, fired his rifle at him 
many times, and ordered his young warriors to do the same, until 
they became convinced that he was under the especial protection 
of the Great Spirit, and would never die in battle, when they 



DEATH OF GENERAL BRADDOCK. 85 

desisted. Although four balls passed through Washington's coat, 
and two horses were shot under him, he escaped unhurt. 

Washington's conduct in the action is described by an eye- 
witness whose verbal account is thus given by Mr. Paulding. 
"I saw him take hold of a brass field-piece, as if it had been a 
stick. He looked like a fury ; he tore the sheet-lead from the 
touch-hole ; he placed one hand on the muzzle, the other on the 
breach; he pulled with this, and he pushed with that, and wheeled 
it round as if it had been nothing. It tore the ground like a bar- 
share.* The powder monkey rushed up with the fire, and then 
the cannon began to bark, I tell you. They fought and they 
fought, and the Indians began to holla, when the rest of the brass 
cannon made the bark of the trees fly, and the Indians come down. 
That place they call Rock Hill, and there they left five hundred 
men dead on the ground."! 

After the slaughter had thus continued for three hours. General 
Braddock, after having three horses killed under him, received a 
shot through the right arm and the lungs, and was borne from the 
field by Colonel Gage. More than one half of the soldiers who 
had so proudly crossed the river, three hours before, were now- 
killed or wounded, and the rest, on the fall of the general, fled 
precipitately. The provincials, who were among the last to leave 
the ground, were kept in order by Washington, and served to 
cover the retreat of the regulars. The officers in general remained 
on the field while there seemed any hope of rallying their troops, 
and consequently, out of eighty-six engaged, sixty-three were 
killed or wounded. Of the privates, seven hundred and fourteen 
fell. The rout was complete, and the more disgraceful in that it 
was before an inferior enemy, who attacked without the least hope 
of such success, and during the whole battle lost but forty men. 
Most of these were Indians killed in venturing out of the ravine 
to take scalps. 

Captain Dumas thought his force too weak to pursue the fugi- 
tives, who fled precipitately until they had recrossed the Monon- 
gahela, w^hen being no longer in immediate danger, they again 
formed. Colonel Washington hastened forward to bring up 
wagons and other conveyances for the wounded. 

General Braddock, under the particular charge of Captain 
Stewart of the Virginia forces, was at first conveyed in a tumbril ; 
afterwards he was placed on horseback, but being unable to ride, 
he was obliged to be carried by soldiers. In this way he was 

* A kind of plough. | See vignette on the title page. 

H 



86 



LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 



transported until, on the night of the 13th, when they arrived within 
a mile of Fort Necessity, where he died, and was buried in his 
cloak, in the road, to elude the search of the Indians. Washington, 
by the light of a torch, read the funeral service over his remains. 
The news of the defeat soon reached the rear division under 
Colonel Dunbar. The greatest confusion for a time reigned in 
his camp. The artillery stores were destroyed, the heavy bag- 
gage burned, and as soon as the fugitives arrived he took up 
the line of march with all speed for Philadelphia. Colonel Wash- 
ington proceeded to Mount Vernon, justly indignant at the con- 
duct of the regulars in the late engagement, though his own 
bravery and good conduct in the action gained him the applause" 
of all his countrymen. 




BDRIAL OF BEADDOOK. 



THE EXPEDITION AGAINST NIAGARA. 



87 




O3 0RGS. 



CHAPTER V. 

HE expeditions against Niagara and Crown 
Point also failed, though their failure was 
not attended with such disastrous conse- 
quences as that against Fort Duquesne. 
The troops destined for both these expedi- 
tions assembled at Albany. Governor Shir- 
- ley of Massachusetts took the command of 
that against Niagara. Various causes operat- 
ing to prevent the commencement of his march, the season was 
well advanced before he left Albany. His army was composed 
of certain regiments of regulars from New England, New York, 
and New Jersey, and a few Indians. At last, in the month of 
July, (1755,) he commenced his march for Oswego, but before he 
arrived at that place, the news of the defeat of Braddock overtook 
him, and spread such a consternation through his army, that many 
deserted, and the Indians, always vacillating and inclined to 
favour the stronger party, began to manifest great unwillingness 




88 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

to proceed. The necessity of securing the good will and co- 
operation of his savage allies, made some farther delay inevitable, 
so that it was not until the 21st of August that he arrived at 
Osweao. 

After remaining there for some time, in the hope of filling up 
his army, and waiting till all the Indians had left him, he made a 
\ igorous effort to reach Niagara, but was prevented by a succes- 
sion of heavy rains, and the increasing sickness of the few sol- 
diers wlio remained with him. Considering these obstacles 
insurmountable, he left a garrison of seven hundred men at Os- 
wego, under the command of Colonel Mercer, and instructing him 
to build two other forts, to secure the command of the lake, he 
returned with the remainder of the army to Albany. 

The army destined for the reduction of Crown Point consisted 
of about five thousand men. The command was given to William 
Johnson, an Irishman, who began life as a common soldier, but 
whose uncommon bodily strength, with a rude energy of cha- 
racter, had enabled him to acquire the friendship of some of the 
most powerful chiefs of the Six Nations. During a residence of 
several years on the banks of the Mohawk, he cultivated this 
friendship with such assiduity, that now, on his being appointed 
commander of the expedition, he was immediately joined by 
Hendrick, one of the chiefs of that confederacy, with three hun- 
dred picked warriors. 

Impatient to commence the campaign, Johnson made all haste 
in collecting the artillery and military stores, and in the mean time 
sent the troops forward under General Lyman, the second in 
command, to the carrying place, about sixty miles above Albany, 
where he soon after joined them, and began to build a fort on the 
eastern side of the Hudson, which he called Fort Edward. 
Leaving a few men to garrison the new fort, he advanced with the 
main body of his army to the southern extremity of Lake George, 
where lie learned that the enemy were erecting a fort at Ticon- 
deroga, at the other extremity of the lake, and about fifteen miles 
below Crown Point. He resolved to pu.sh forward, hoping by 
so doing to reduce the new fort before it could be put in a state 
of defence, but before he advanced he received information which 
obliged him to stand on the defensive. 

This intelligence, which changed the whole character of the 
campaign, was, that Baron Dieskau, an able commander, had 
recently arrived in Canada from France, with a large reinforce- 
ment, and that, having collected a considerable body of Canadians 



JOHNSON'S EXPEDITION. 89 

and Indians, he was now advancing with great speed to attack 
the English settlements. 

Johnson transmitted this intelligence to the colonies, and began 
with haste to fortify his camp. He could gain no definite idea 
of the numbers of Dieskau's army, the Indian spies uniformly 
reporting them as innumerable, by pointing to the stars in the sky, 
or the hairs of the head. It was impossible from their accounts 
to discover whether they fell short of a thousand, or exceeded ten 
thousand in number. Thus, left in doubt, and not knowing the 
destination of the enemy, Johnson secretly conveyed a few can- 
non from Fort Edward to his camp, and doubling his spies and 
scouts awaited the expected attack. 

Dieskau at first proceeded towards Oswego, but on learning the 
advance of Johnson with an inferior army towards Crown Point, 
hastened to direct his operations against him ; and so confident 
was he of an easy victory, that he made known his intention after 
the capture of Fort Edward to destroy Albany, ravage the neigh- 
bouring settlements, and cut off the English from all communica- 
tion with Oswego, which would soon be compelled to surrender. 
His superior strength and skill rendered this result very probable ; 
but victory does not always smile on the strong, and the wisdom 
of the most experienced may sometimes fail them. 

Dieskau's hopes were raised to a high pitch, and his contempt 
for his English enemy greatly increased by a blunder of Johnson's ; 
who, deceived by the information that the van of the enemy was 
advancing incautiously, on the sixth of September, sent forward 
a party of a thousand men under Colonel Williams, together with 
Hendrick and his Indians, to attack them. Scarcely had this 
party advanced three miles, when they found themselves almost 
surrounded by the whole French army. Nothing daunted, they 
commenced a spirited but hopeless conflict, which resulted in the 
death of their gallant leader, Colonel Williams; and Hendrick, 
with many of his followers, was also among the slain. The 
greater part of the detachment escaped to the camp, closely pur- 
sued by the victorious French. 

Having heard, a few days before, that Johnson had no artillery 
at his camp, Dieskau was confident of victory, and consequently, 
instead of attacking the entrenchments at once, permitted his sol- 
diers to pause at some distance, that they might be regularly 
formed, and advance with decency and in the true European style, 
to take possession of the fort. 

Johnson, though now convinced of his great inferiority, but 
12 h2 



90 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

having the courage of an Irishman, determined to resist to the 
last ; and uncovering his cannon, effectually disturbed the repose 
of the enemy, and spread such consternation among the Canadian 
militia and the Indians, that they fled precipitately to the woods, 
leaving the ranks of Dieskau in more confusion than when pur- 
suing the retreating foe. The French regulars, however, main- 
tained their position, and opening a brisk fire upon tHe camp, 
continued the assault with spirit for several hours. Johnson 
being severely wounded, reluctantly resigned the command to 
General Lyman, who carried on the defence with such resolution 
and spirit that the French were finally obliged to retire with the 
loss of nearly a thousand men. Dieskau himself was mortally 
wounded, and made prisoner ; and his retreating forces, rallying 
at some distance, and preparing to refresh themselves with food, 
were suddenly attacked by a small detachment of militia from 
New York, when they abandoned their baggage and ammunition, 
and fled in confusion. 

Johnson did not follow up his victory, but spent the time in 
lingering and irresolute deliberations until October, when a coun- 
cil of war decided that it was inexpedient to attempt any further 
military operations in that quarter during that year. He built 
Fort William Henry at the southern extremity of Lake George, 
and leaving six hundred men to garrison it and Fort Edward, 
disbanded the remainder of his army. It was thought by many 
that if he had followed up his victory by an immediate attack on 
Crown Point, or even on Ticonderoga, he would have succeeded ; 
but he did not choose to hazard his reputation, by exposing him- 
self to the chance of defeat. For his services in this campaign, 
Johnson received from the king the dignity of a baronet, and from 
the parliament a gfant of five thousand pounds. 

Thus did the three main expeditions projected by the council 
of governors at Alexandria, in the beginning of the year, all sig- 
nally fail ; and at the end of 1755, the French were more firmly 
planted in their North American possessions than at its commence- 
ment. The brilliant engagement at Lake George produced no 
lasting good, because it was not followed up with alacrity ; and 
the French gained time to strengthen and complete their fortifica- 
tions. Besides, the fact that they still held all their works, and 
were hastening forward to construct others, and the great victory 
gained at the Monongahela, operated powerfully on the minds of 
the Indians, who began, in great numbers, to flock to their standard. 

Encouraged by this seeming willingness of the Indians to join 



ALLIANCE WITH THE CHEROKEES. 



91 



them, the French attempted, by bribes and promises, to allure to 
their side the powerful nation of Cherokees, who had hitherto 
been the firmest allies of Great Britain ; but the attempt only 
caused these Indians to enter into a closer alliance with the Eng- 
lish colonists ; and by a treaty concluded with the governor of 
South Carolina, they voluntarily ceded to the king of Great Bri- 
tain a large portion of their territory. 




92 



LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 




CHAPTER VI. 



:t 



ittq[M)Egn?« 




lIHE defeat of Braddock, and the flight of Dunbar, 
i-i left the frontier of Virginia exposed to all the hor- 
rors of Indian warfare. The Assembly then in 
session saw the danger to which the colony was 
exposed, and the necessity of protecting it. 
For this purpose, they voted forty thousand 
pounds, and the governor ordered the regiment to be increased to 
sixteen companies. The courage and good conduct shown by 
Colonel Washington at the battle of the Monongahela, pointed him 
out as the only person in the colony who was capable of affording 
the desired protection, and he was accordingly appointed, on the 
14th of August, 1755, commander-in-chief of the Virginia forces. 
Tliis commission was accompanied by a letter from Governor 
Dinwiddle, giving him the unusual power of naming his field- 
officers, and appointing an aide-de-camp and secretary. 

This command was cheerfully accepted by Washington, though 
well aware of the nature of the charge which it imposed upon him. 
With very few men, nominally one thousand, but seldom exceed- 
ing seven hundred, he was expected to defend a frontier of 



INDIAN INCURSIONS. 93 

upwards of three hundred miles in extent, against hordes of 
savages, who were instigated to the most barbarous murders by 
men calling themselves civilized, Christians, and subjects of his 
majesty, the king of the French. 

Possessing a knowledge of the nature of his duties, Washington 
felt that there was no time to be lost, and accordingly after 
appointing as the next officers in rank under him, Lieutenant- 
Colonel Adam Stephen, and Major Andrew Lewis, and issuing 
the necessary orders for the recruiting service, he proceeded per- 
sonally to inspect the condition of the defences on the frontier. 
He fixed his head-quarters at Winchester, where he arrived on the 
14th of September, and then visited and took the command of the 
principal forts. He found many posts, but few soldiers to gar- 
rison. Such as he found, however, he disposed in the most 
efficient manner, and then started for Williamsburg to arrange a 
plan of operations with the governor. He passed through Frede- 
ricksburg on the 5th of October, but he had not reached Williams- 
burg when he was overtaken by an express from Colonel Stephen, 
informing him that a large body of Indians had fallen upon the 
inhabitants of some of the back settlements, and were murdering 
and capturing men, women, and children, burning their houses 
and destroying their crops, and that the few soldiers who were 
stationed there for their protection had fallen back upon the 
stockade forts, where they were hourly in expectation of de- 
struction. 

Colonel Washington immediately changed his course from 
Williamsburg to Winchester, where he used every exertion to 
induce the terrified and flying settlers to unite in the defence of 
their families and possessions. Too much frightened to care for 
any thing but the safety of their own families, they took very little 
thought for the general welfare, and fled in confusion towards the 
more thickly settled portions of the colony. Such was the con- 
sternation and confusion that prevailed, that before a force suffi- 
cient to stand before the enemy could be collected, they had 
recrossed the Alleghany Mountains, and retired with their plunder 
and captives to the protection afforded by the guns of Fort Du- 
quesne. 

Colonel Washington well knew that the only security against 
the repetition of such incursions was the capture of the French 
fort on the Ohio ; but that was an absolute impossibility with the 
small means which the government of Virginia thought fit to place 
at his disposal. The governor and council considered it betier 



94 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

to act on the defensive ; and Washington was ordered to establish 
a line of small stockade forts along the frontier. This was soon 
done, and the principal part of the forces under Washington being 
stationed in them, he, with the remainder, traversed the frontier, 
for the purpose of preventing or punishing the aggressions of the 
enemy. 

The force at his command was too small to accomplish the 
intended object, and the enemy with whom he had to deal, too 
active and cunning to suffer from the forts. If Washington 
appeared with a force at any one part of his extended line, the 
enemy knew that the remainder of the line was proportionally 
weakened, and they would accordingly divide themselves into 
small parties, and, avoiding the forts, assail solitary farm-houses, 
by night or by day, and after plundering them and murdering 
their inmates, set them on fire and retire. The approach of a 
respectable force was the signal for the incendiaries to disappear. 
The distress of the inhabitants, caused by these incursions, ex- 
ceeded all description. If they continued on their farms, they 
retired to rest every night under the apprehension of being mur- 
dered before the morning ; if they fled, they abandoned the con- 
veniences of home, and all means of support ; and if they took 
refuge in the stockade forts, they suffered from famine, and were 
always liable to be cut off and murdered by strong parties. 
Death, too, was not the greatest of the evils to which they were 
exposed. Captivity, or torture, by which death was rendered a 
thousand times more terrible, and yet often welcome, was often 
their portion. Nor was it the men alone, who were liable to 
these evils, but the women and children; for the savages and their 
inhuman allies made little distinction on account of age or sex. 

The vigilance and authority of W^ashington at last succeeded 
in restoring a little of the confidence of the inhabitants, and in 
opposing a slight barrier to the incursions of the enemy. 

Some of the difficulties with which Colonel Washington was 
surrounded at this period, exclusive of those naturally to be 
expected from an active and vigilant enemy, and the smallness 
of his numbers, compared with the services expected from him, 
may be gathered from the tenor of his letters to Governor Din- 
widdle. 

In one dated from Fredericksburg, about two months after he 
had assumed the command, speaking of the difficulties which met 
him at the very outset, he says : 

"In all things I meet with the greatest opposition. 



WANT OF DISCIPLINE. 95 

"No orders are obeyed, but such as a party of soldiers or my 
own drawn sword enforces. Without this, not a single horse, for 
the most earnest occasion, can be had, to such a pitch has the 
insolence of these people arrived, by having every point hitherto 
submitted to them. However, I have given up none, where his 
majesty's service requires the contrary, and when my proceedings 
are justified by my instructions ; nor will I, unless they execute 
what they threaten, that is, <blow out our brains.' " 

In the same letters, complaining of his inadequate authority to 
enforce military discipline, he says : 

"I would again hint the necessity of putting the militia under 
a better regulation, had I not mentioned it twice before, and a 
third time may seem impertinent. But I must once more beg 
leave to declare, for here I am more immediately concerned, that 
unless the Assembly will pass an act to enforce military law^ in 
all its parts, I must, with great regret, decline the honour that has 
been so generously intended me. I am urged to this, by the fore- 
knowledge I have of failing in every point that might justly be 
expected from a person invested with full power to execute his 
authority. I see the growing insolence of the soldiers, and the 
indolence and inactivity of the officers, who are all sensible how 
limited their punishments are, compared with what they ought to 
be. In fine, I can plainly see, that under the present establish- 
ment, we shall become a nuisance, an insupportable charge to 
our country, and never answer any one expectation of the Assem- 
bly. And here I must assume the freedom to express some sur- 
prise, that we alone should be so tenacious of our liberty as not 
to invest a power where interest and policy so unanswerably 
demand it, and whence so much good must consequently ensue. 
Do we not know that every nation under the sun finds its account 
therein, and that without it, no order or regularity can be ob- 
served ? Why then should it be expected from us, who are all 
young and inexperienced, to govern and keep up a proper spirit 
of discipline without laws, when the best and most experienced 
can scarcely do it with them ? If we consult our interest, I am 
sure it loudly calls for them. I can confidently assert, that 
recruiting, clothing, arming, maintaining and subsisting soldiers 
who have since deserted, have cost the country an immense sum, 
which might have been prevented, were we under restraints that 
would terrify the soldiers from such practices." 

Strictly punctilious in yielding deference and obedience to 
those who by the laws and usages of the army, were entitled to 



96 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

exact it, Washington, as we have already seen, was peculiarly 
sensitive when any portion of his rights as an officer were invaded. 
And now, to add to the difficulties by which he was surrounded, 
the old difficulty between the provincial officers and those holding 
the king's commissions was revived. A certain Captain Dag- 
worthy, who had received his commission from the king, and had 
served in the Canada expedition, was now at Fort Cumberland, 
at the head of thirty volunteers, raised by the colony of Maryland, 
and acting under the authority of that province. Dagworthy 
refused to obey the orders of any provincial officer, no matter how 
high his rank might be. This led to wranglings and the formation 
of parties among the inferior officers, and Washington complained. 
The governor of Maryland, wishing to consider Fort Cumberland 
under his authority, refused to interfere. The governor of Vir- 
ginia contended, from the fact that the fort had been built by him, 
under an order from the king, that Maryland had no authority 
over it, though it was situated within the bounds of that province. 
He considered it as an absurdity for a captain of thirty men, 
acting under a commission from the governor of Maryland, to claim 
precedence of the commander-in-chief of all the Virginia forces. 
The governor, now beginning to vacillate in his conduct towards 
Washington, and not wishing to risk his authority in deciding a 
doubtful question, went no farther. He hinted that Washington 
might arrest Dagworthy, but evaded giving any positive order on 
the subject. 

The conduct of Dinwiddle only increased the embarrassments 
of Washington, and he immediately sent a forcible remonstrance 
to him and the council, informing them that he would not hold his 
commission, unless this difficulty were removed. In a letter to 
the governor, dated 5th December, 1755, he says: "I never can 
submit to the command of Captain Dag\vorthy, since you have 
honoured me with the command of the Virginia regiment." 

In order to put an end to the difficulty, Governor Dinwiddle 
wrote to General Shirley, then commander-in-chief of his majesty's 
forces in North America, soliciting brevet commissions for Colonel 
Washinsrton and the officers under him. This solicitation was not 
answered in January, 1756, when Colonel Washington wrote to 
the governor: — "As I have not yet heard how General Shirley has 
answered your request, I fear for the success of it, especially as it 
is next to an impossibility (since Governor Sharpe* has been 
there to plead Captain Dagworthy 's cause) to make the general 

* Of Maryland. 



CAPTAIN DAGWORTHY. 9^ 

acquainted by writing with the nature of the dispute. The officers 
have drawn up a memorial to be presented to the general, and 
that It may be properly strengthened, they humbly beg your soli- 
citation to have us put upon the establishment, as we have certain 
advices that it is in his power. This would, at once, put an end 
to ^e contention, which is the root of evil, and destructive to the 
best operations ; and it would turn all our movements into a free 
and easy channel. 

"They have urged it to me in the warmest manner, to appear 
personally before the general, for that end. This I would dadlv 

which I the more freely ask, since I am determined to resign a 
commission, which you were generously pleased to offer me, and 
for which I shal always retain a grateful sense, rather than submit 
to the command of a person, who has not such superlative merit 

whJt\. "r i "T"^^ '^ ^^"^- ^°^'^^^^r' ^« adheres to 
what he calls his rights, in which I know he is supported by 
Governor Sharpe. He says, that he has no commission from the 
province of Maryland, but acts by virtue of that from the kin. • 
this was the condition of his engaging in the Maryland service • 
and that when he was sent up there, the first of last October he 
was ordered by Governor Sharpe and Sir John St. Clair not to 
give up his right. To my certain knowledge his rank was dis- 
puted before General Braddock, who gave it in his favour ; and 
he accordingly took place of every captain upon the expedition 
except Captain James Mercer and Captain Rutherford, whose 
commissions were older than his; so that I should not by anv 
means choose to act, as your honour hinted in your last, lest I 
should be called to an account myself.* 

"I have during my stay at Winchester, from the 20th of De- 
cember to this time, disposed of all the men and officers that are 
not recruiting, and can be spared from the fort, in the best manner 
I could for the defence of the inhabitants, and they will need no 
further orders till I could return. And rhe recruiting officers are 
allowed till the first of March to repair to their rendez^vous, which 
leaves at present nothing to do at the fort, but to train and disci- 
pline the men, and prepare and salt the provisions. For the 
better perfecting both these, I have left full and clear directions 

mCuT 7 ""' °'^'' '"'P''^'' ^ '^^^^ "^y ^°^"^ '^ '^' ^o^thward 
might be of service, as I should thereby become acquainted with 

^i^^^:Z^^^;:^;-''-^y ^^-^" -' 'y ^--i^^ie, that Wash- 



93 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

the plan of operations, so far as it may be thought proper to be 
communicated." 

The permission thus asked was granted, and Washington com- 
menced a journey of five hundred miles on the 4th of February, 
1756. He, accompanied by Captains Mercer and Stewart, tra- 
velled to Boston on horseback, passing through the cities of Phila- 
delphia, New York and New London on the route. At New York 
he was politely received and entertained by Mr. Beverly Robinson, 
at whose house he became acquainted with Miss Mary Phillips, a 
sister of Mrs. Robinson, a young lady whose rare accomplishments 
made a deep impression on his heart. He arrived in Boston 
towards the end of February, where he was well received by 
General Shirley, who made him acquainted with the plan of opera- 
tions lately agreed on by a council of governors assembled at 
New York. He remained in Boston ten days, when, having 
accomplished the object of his mission, and obtained from the 
general his order in writing that Dagworthy should be subject to 
his command, he set out on his return. It is worthy of remark, 
that Washington only partially succeeded in the original object 
for which he set out. Had he succeeded in obtaining for him- 
self and his field-officers a commission from the king of Great 
Britain, it is impossible to conceive what would have been its 
effect on the future destinies of the provinces. In returning, he 
again stopped at New York, as long as he could consistently with 
his duty, and it was with some reluctance, that, on the near 
approach of the day of meeting of the Virginia Assembly, he tore 
himself away ; taking care to intrust his secret to a confidential 
friend who promised to keep him informed of every thing that 
happened in relation to the lady to whom he had become attached. 
From this friend he soon learned that his old companion in arms, 
Captain Morris, had appeared as a rival, and claimed the hand of 
Miss Phillips, and his correspondent further said that it was im- 
possible to divine the result if he delayed to revisit New York and 
press his suit. This information found Washington busily engaged 
in his public duties, and even an affair of the heart was not enough 
to make him neglect his duty to his country. The lady was soon 
after married to Captain Morris, and it is supposed that Washing- 
ton never saw her more. He arrived at Williamsburg on the 23d 
of March, having been absent but seven weeks. 

The Assembly met about the time of his return, and determined 
on another defensive campaign. They passed an act increasing 
the army to fifteen hundred men, but it was found impossible, 



CORRESPONDENCE WITH THE GOVERNOR. 99 

under the laws then in force, to get more than one half of them 
into service at any one time. 

While Washington was at Williamsburg, an express arrived with 
the intelligence that the enemy had recommenced their predatory 
incursions, and that they now came with greater assurance, having 
committed several murders within a short distance of Winchester, 
and spread great alarm among the inhabitants of that region. 
He immediately hastened to Winchester, where he found that the 
French and Indians were so emboldened by the impunity with 
which they had hitherto carried on their operations, that they hesi- 
tated not to attack the small forts in the day-time. In a letter 
which he wrote to the governor, on the 7th of April, he says :— 
"However absurd it may appear, it is nevertheless certain, that 
five hundred Indians have it more in their power to annoy the 
inhabitants than ten times their number of regulars. Besides the 
advantageous way they have of fighting in the woods, their cun- 
ning and craft, their activity and patient sufferings, are not to be 
equalled. They prowl about like wolves, and, like them, do their 
mischief by stealth. They depend upon their dexterity in hunting 
and upon the cattle of the inhabitants for provisions." 

Colonel Washington had always represented to the government 
of the province that the only way to prevent the incursions of the 
savages, and effectually to protect their extended frontier, was to 
capture Fort Duquesne, whence they obtained aid and protection. 
But the colony had no cannon, and they thought that in their situ» 
ation it was enough to station the small force under Washington 
along the frontier, to ward off the blows which they might have pre- 
vented. The sufferings to which these errors gave rise were strongly 
and pathetically represented to the governor in a letter to him from 
Washington, under the date of Winchester, 22d April, 1756. 

" Your honour," he says, '< may see to what unhappy straits the 
distressed inhabitants and myself are reduced. I am too^ little 
acquainted, sir, with pathetic language to attempt a description 
of the people's distresses, though I have a generous soul, sensible 
of wrongs, and swelling for redress. But what can I do ; I see 
their situation, know their danger, and participate their sufferings, 
without having it in my power to give them further relief than 
uncertain promises. In short, I see inevitable destruction in so 
clear a light, that unless vigorous measures are taken by the 
Assembly, and speedy assistance sent from below, the poor inha- 
bitants that are now in forts must unavoidably fall, while the 
remainder are flying before the barbarous foe. In fine, the melan- 



JOO LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

choly situation of the people, the little prospect of assistance, the 
gross and scandalous abuses cast upon the officers in general, 
which is reflecting upon me in particular, for suffering misconduct 
of such extraordinary kinds,* and the distant prospect, if any, of 
gaining honour and reputation in the service, cause me to lament 
the hour that gave me a commission, and would induce me, at 
any other time than this of imminent danger, to resign, without 
one hesitating moment, a command from which I never expect to 
reap either honour or benefit; but on the contrary, have almost an 
absolute certainty of incurring displeasure below, while the murder 
of helpless families may be laid to my account here ! 

"The supplicating tears of the women, and moving petitions of 
the men, melt me into such deadly sorrow, that I solemnly declare, 
if I know ray own mind, I could offer myself a willing sacrifice to 
ihe butchering enemy, provided that w^ould contribute to the 
people's ease." 

Two days afterwards he again addressed the governor in the 
same strain of humanity and sympathy with the distressed people. 
"Not an hour," he says, "nay scarcely a minute passes, that does 
not produce fresh alarms and melancholy accounts. Nor is it pos- 
sible to give the people the necessary assistance for their defence, 
on account of the small number of men we have, or that are likely 
to be here for some time. The inhabitants are removing daily, 
and in a short time will leave this country as desolate as Hamp- 
shire, where scarce a family lives. 

"Three families were murdered the night before last, at the dis- 
tance of less than twelve miles from this place ; and every day we 
have accounts of such cruelties and barbarities as are shocking 
to human nature. It is not possible to conceive the situation and 
danger of this miserable country. Such numbers of French and 
Indians are all around, that no road is safe ; and here we know 
not the hour we may be attacked." 

But the fullest statement of the disadvantage under which he 
laboured, is to be found in his memorial to Lord Loudoun, who 
had been appointed commander-in-chief of the North American 

* This relates to certain false reports which the governor received of the immorality 
of the Virginia regiment, their habits of gaming, drinking, swearing, and such repre- 
hensible irregularities. These reports were spread by certain Scotchmen, who from 
interested motives poisoned the mind of the governor, and greatly influenced him in 
withholding the aid which was so necessary for the army. Washington firmly but 
modestly repelled these charges, calling for the names of his accusers. The governor 
denied that any accusations were made against him; but the breach, which had for 
some time been opening between them, continued to grow wider and wider while 
Dinwiddie remained in Virginia. 



LETTER TO LORD LOUDOUN. 



101 




B^^2=£=^ men 



forces, and which bears 
date Fort Loudoun, Feb- 
ruary, 1757. In this com- 
munication he strikingly 
shows the absurdity of ex- 
pecting him to defend a 
frontier of three hundred 
miles with fifteen hundred 
He details the most 
convincing reasons for 
adopting aggressive ope- 
rations, more particularly 
upon the stronghold of the 
enemy, FortDuquesne. He 
complains loudly of the 
utter insufficiency and folly 
of existing military regulations, of the incompetency of the sol- 
diers' pay, and the want of punctuality in remitting it, and of any 
provision for those who might be wounded or disabled in the 
service. He depicts the uselessness of the militia, the indifference 
of the people at large, and finally crowns the catalogue of his 
complaints with some of a personal kind. 

"And now, before I conclude, I must beg leave to add that 
my unwearied endeavours are inadequately rewarded. The orders 
I receive are full of ambiguity. I am left, like a wanderer in the 
wilderness, to proceed at hazard. I am answerable for conse- 
quences, and blamed without the privilege of defence. This, my 
Lord, I beg leave to declare, is at present ray situation. There- 
fore, it is not to be wondered at, if, under such peculiar circum- 
stances, I should be sick of a service which promises so little of a 
soldier's reward. I have long been satisfied of the impossibility 
of continuing in this service, without loss of honour. Indeed, 
I was fully convinced of it before I accepted the command the 
second time, seeing the cloudy prospect before me ; and I did, for 
this reason, reject the offer until I was ashamed any longer to 
refuse, not caring to expose my character to public censure. The 
solicitations of the country overcame my objections, and induced 
me to accept it." 

The attention of Lord Loudoun, however, was so much directed 
to the north, that he could pay but little regard to the affairs of the 
middle and southern provinces. The result of this state of things 
was, that until 1758, all the remonstrances of Colonel Washington 

i2 



102 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

were disregarded ; and the history of the war during that period 
is the history of continual and successful irruptions made by the 
French and Indians across the least defended parts of the frontier ; 
in which they massacred all the inhabitants without regard to age 
or sex, burned and destroyed such property as they could not 
remove, and returned across the mountains almost with impunity, 
loaded with spoil and sated with slaughter. 

Towards the close of 1757, Washington, under a severe attack 
of dysentery and fever, was reduced so low that he was obliged 
to retire to Mount Vernon, and it was not till about the 1st of 
April that he was able to resume his command at Fort Loudoun. 
In the mean time Governor Dinwiddle returned to England, and 
Lord Loudoun was superseded in the supreme command by 
Major-general Abercrombie ; who, to the inexpressible joy of 
Washington, determined to attempt the reduction of Fort Du- 
quesne, and while he carried on the operations in the North, 
intrusted the defence of the Middle and Southern colonies to 
Brigadier-general Forbes. 

The forces of Virginia were increased to two regiments of about 
eight hundred men each. Besides these, the troops under the 
command of General Forbes consisted of twelve hundred High- 
landers, three hundred and fifty Royal Americans, about two 
thousand seven hundred provincials from Pennsylvania, and two 
or three hundred from Maryland ; making in all over six thousand 
men. Part of this force was at Philadelphia, part at Raystown, 
and part dispersed over the frontiers of Virginia. Though Wash- 
ington urged the necessity of an early campaign, he did not receive 
orders to assemble his regiment at Winchester, till the 24th of 
May ; nor to march to Fort Cumberland, till the 24th of June ; 
nor to join the main body at Raystown till the 21st of September. 
To Washington, who knew the value of time thus lost, these delays 
were exceedingly vexatious. As if studiously seeking delay. 
General Forbes, instead of marching by Braddock's road, which 
was open to within seven or eight miles of the fort, he determined 
to cut a new road through the wilderness from Raystown. Wash- 
ington urgently and repeatedly remonstrated against this waste of 
precious time and labour, but to no effect. His superiors in 
command determined on making the new road, and Washington 
quietly submitted. He was put in command of the advanced 
division, and was ordered to act in concert with Colonel Bouquet 
in opening the new route. 

General Forbes arrived at Loyal Hanna on the 5th of November, 



RESIGNATION OF WASHINGTON. 



103 




OLD BLOCK-HOUSE AT FORT DCTQUESN] 



and calling a council of war, it was resolved, on account of the 
lateness of the season, to abandon the attempt on Duquesne for that 
campaign. Some prisoners being soon afterwards brought in, gave 
such an account of the weakness of the garrison, that the resolution 
was reconsidered, and the general determined to push forward at 
all hazards. At length, after the greatest labour and difficulty, they 
reached Fort Duquesne on the 25th of November, which, to their 
great surprise, they found evacuated, the enemy having set fire to 
the buildings the preceding evening, and closed the war by 
retreating down the Ohio in boats. The neighbouring tribes of 
Indians now deserted their ancient allies and joined the English. 
The name of the fort was changed to Fort Pitt, and being re- 
paired, it was garrisoned by two hundred men. Thus Washington 
had the satisfaction of seeing the object of his wishes and efforts 
accomplished. His health being seriously impaired by the arduous 
service he had performed, and his domestic affairs needing his 
attention, he resigned his commission, and retired again to do- 
mestic life at Mount Vernon. Perhaps the clearest view of the 
character which he left behind him, and of the feelings with which 
the army suffered the loss of his services, may be obtained from 
the following address, presented to him by the officers on his 
resigning the command. Though inferior as a literary composi- 
tion, it evinces those warm sentiments of admiration and love for 
Washington which were shared with them by the great majority 



104 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

of his countrymen. The address is as follows : "Sir, we your 
most obedient and affectionate officers, beg leave to express our 
great concern, at the disagreeable news we have received of your 
determination to resign the command of that corps in which we 
have so long under you served. The happiness we have enjoyed, 
and the honour we have acquired, together with the mutual regard 
which has always subsisted between you and your officers, have 
implanted so sensible an affiiction in the minds of us all, that we 
cannot be silent on this critical occasion. 

<<In our earliest infancy you took us under your tuition, trained 
us up in the practice of that discipline, which alone can constitute 
good troops, from the punctual observation of which you never 
suffered the least deviation. 

<'Your steady adherence to impartial justice, your quick dis- 
cernment, and invariable regard to merit, wisely intended to 
inculcate those genuine sentiments of true honour and passion for 
glory, from which the greatest military achievements have been 
derived, first heightened our natural emulation and our desire to 
excel. How much we improved by those regulations and our 
own example, with what alacrity we have hitherto discharged our 
duty, w4th what cheerfulness we have encountered the severest 
toil, especially while under your particular directions, we submit 
to yourself, and flatter ourselves that we have in a great measure 
answered your expectations. 

"Judge, then, how sensibly we must be affected with the loss 
of such an excellent commander, such a sincere friend and so 
affable a companion. How rare it is to find those amiable quali- 
fications blended together in one man ! How great the loss of 
such a man! Adieu to that superiority which the enemy have 
granted us over other troops, and which even the regulars and 
provincials have done us the honour publicly to acknowledge ! 
Adieu to that strict discipline and order which you have always 
maintained ! Adieu to that happy union and harmony, which 
have been our principal cement ! It gives us additional sorrow, 
when we reflect, to find our unhappy country will receive a loss 
no less irreparable than our own. Where will it meet a man so 
experienced in military affairs — one so renowned for patriotism, 
conduct, and courage ? "Who has so great a knowledge of the 
enemy we have to deal with ? — who so well acquainted with their 
situation and strength? — who so much respected by the soldiery? — 
who, in short, so able to support the military character of Vir- 
ginia ? 



ADDRESS OF HIS OFFICERS. 105 

« Your approved love to your king and country, and your 
uncommon perseverance in promoting the honour and true interest 
of the service, convince us that the most cogent reasons only 
could induce you to quit it ; yet we, with the greatest deference, 
presume to entreat you to suspend those thoughts for another 
year, and to lead us on to assist in the glorious work of extirpat- 
ing our enemies, towards which so considerable advances have 
been already made. In you, we place the most implicit confi- 
dence. Your presence only will cause a steady firmness and 
vigor to actuate in every breast, despising the greatest dangers 
and thinking light of toils and hardships, while led on by the 
man we know and love. 

"But if we must be so unhappy as to part, if the exigencies of 

your affairs force you to abandon us, we beg it as our last request 

. that you will recommend some person most capable to command, 

whose military knowledge, whose honour, whose conduct, and 

whose disinterested principles we may depend upon. 

"Frankness, sincerity, and a certain openness of soul, are the 
true characteristics of an officer, and we flatter ourselves that you 
do not think us capable of saying any thing contrary to the purest 
dictates of our minds. Fully persuaded of this, we beg leave to 
assure you, that, as you have hitherto been the actuating soul of 
our whole corps, we shall at all times pay the most invariable 
regard to your will and pleasure, and will always be happy to 
demonstrate by our actions with how much respect and esteem 
we are, &c." 

Thus had Washington, in his twenty-sixth year, secured for 
himself the love and esteem of all who knew him. He was the 
boast of Virginia ; and his name was blessed in all her families 
and settlements as the saviour of her land from pillage, her pro- 
perty from destruction, and her sons and daughters from the bloody 
war-knife of the savage. 

The same high opinion of his character and merits had been 
adopted by the British officers with whom he had come in contact. 
" The duties he performed, though not splendid, were arduous ; 
and were executed with zeal, and with judgment. The exact 
discipline he established in his regiment, when the temper of Vir- 
ginia was extremely hostile to discipline, does credit to his mili- 
tary character ; and the gallantry the troops displayed, whenever 
called into action, manifests the spirit infused into them by their 
commander. 

"The difficulties of his situation, while unable to cover the fron- 
14 



106 



LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 



tier from the French and Indians who were spreading death and 
desolation in every quarter, were incalculably great; and no better 
evidence of his exertions under these distressing circumstances 
can be given, than the undiminished confidence still placed in 
him, by those whom he was unable to protect. 

'<The efforts to which he incessantly stimulated his country for 
the purpose of obtaining possession of the Ohio ; the system for 
the conduct of the war which he continually recommended ; the 
vigorous and active measures always urged on those by whom he 
was commanded ; manifested an ardent and enterprising mind 
tempered by judgment, and quickly improved by experience."* 

* Marshall. 




BalTISn INFA-NTRT. TIME OF GEORQE II. 



OPERATIONS OF MONTCALM. 



107 




CHAPTER VII. 



!CiEff1lIliegt of 



HILE the gigantic efforts and 
slow movements of the English 
in Virginia and Pennsylvania 
were accomplishing the expul- 
sion of five hundred men from 
the wilderness fortress of Du- 
quesne, the same policy, on a 
proportionate scale, was pursued 
against the stronger French 
posts in Canada. In the coun- 
cil of governors, already men- 
tioned as having been held at 
New York, in 1756, three expeditions were planned, in which 
twenty-one thousand men were to be employed against Crown 
Point, Niagara, and Fort Duquesne. The operations of Generals 
Abercrombie and Loudoun, who arrived successively as com- 
manders-in-chief, were retarded by their own want of energy, 
and disputes with the provincial officers concermng rank. While 
the British were deliberating on the best mode of opening the 
campaign, the Marquis de Montcalm, an officer of high spirit, who 
M succeeded Baron Dieskau in the chief command of the French 




108 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

forces in Canada, suddenly disconcerted all their plans by com- 
mencing offensive operations. 

He made a rapid march at the head of five thousand men to 
Lake Ontario, and invested one of the forts occupied by the 
British at Oswego. He began the siege on the 10th of August. 
The scanty supply of ammunition possessed by the besieged was 
soon exhausted, when Colonel Mercer, the commandant, spiked 
his guns, and carried his troops without the loss of a man to 
the other fort. Montcalm immediately opened a heavy fire upon 
the remaining fort, and the brave Mercer having been killed by a 
cannon-ball, the garrison, dismayed by his loss, demanded a 
capitulation, and surrendered themselves, to the number of four- 
teen hundred, prisoners of war. By the surrender of the fort at 
Oswego, the French obtained possession of one hundred and 
twenty-one cannon, fourteen mortars, a great quantity of military 
stores and provisions, as well as several sloops and boats. 

In consequence of this disastrous event, the British abandoned 
all their plans of offensive operations, and confined their attention 
to the strengthening of the posts which still remained to them on 
the Northern and Western frontiers. In 1757, Montcalm, always 
watchful and active, took advantage of a blunder made by Lord 
Loudoun. That nobleman withdrew his main army to Halifax, 
with the intention of attempting the reduction of Louisburg.' No 
sooner was this movement known to the French general than he 
marched with nine thousand men, and in the beginning of August 
laid siege to Fort William Henry, which was garrisoned by three 
thousand men under Colonel Monroe. Montcalm pressed the 
siege with such vigour and skill, that he compelled the garrison 
to surrender on capitulation in six days. The defenders stipu- 
lated that they should be allowed to march out of the fort with the 
honours of war, and be escorted to Fort Edward by French 
troops, as a security against the savages. These terms, however, 
were violated by the Indians ; for no sooner had the British laid 
down their arms, than they began to strip them of their 
clothing, killing and scalping whoever made the slightest resist- 
ance. Scarcely one half of the garrison of Fort William Henry 
reached Fort Edward, and they arrived in small squads and in 
the most miserable condition. The neglect of Montcalm, on this 
dreadful occasion, kindled through the colonies a deep thirst for 
vengeance ; and such was the number of determined volunteers 
that began to arm in the New England colonies, and pour into 
Fort Edward, and the exposed strongholds in the neighbourhood, 



TAKING OF LOUISBURG AND QUEBEC. 



109 




that the French thought 
it inexpedient to pursue 
their victory farther dur- 
ing that year. 

This massacre, mani- 
festing the insensibility 
of the French to the bar- 
barous conduct of their 
Indian allies, may be 
considered as the pivot on 
which the fortunes of the 
war turned. Hitherto, 
it had been an almost 
uninterrupted series of 
disasters and disgrace to 
the British arms. In 
Europe similar results followed the feeble measures of the cabinet. 
But the spirit of the nation being now aroused, forced into power 
William Pitt, afterwards Earl of Chatham, the most able and 
accomplished statesman that Britain had yet produced. Disap- 
proving military operations on the continent of Europe, he turned 
his main attention to the North American colonies, and by vigor- 
ously announcing his resolution of speedily bringing the war to a 
successful termination, drew from them the most po'.»'erful aid. 
Lord Loudoun was recalled, and superseded by General Amherst, 
a more able commander ; while a subordinate command was 
assigned to General Wolfe, a young officer in whom the discerning 
eye of Pitt discovered a rising military genius. 

In the campaign of 1758, three expeditions were again deter- 
mined on; the first against Louisburg, under the command of 
Generals Amherst and Wolfe, aided by the fleet under Admiral 
Boscawen ; the second against Ticonderoga and Crown Point, 
under the command of General Abercrombie ; and the third 
against Fort Duquesne, under General Forbes. 

We have already witnessed the success of the last of these, 
in which Washington was personally engaged. 

General Abercrombie, at the head of sixteen thousand men, 
marched towards Ticonderoga. On the road he fell in with a 
detachment of the enemy, who attacked Abercrombie, and by 
their first fire killed Lord Howe, a young officer of high promise, 
and much beloved in America. The superior numbers of the 
British, however, bore down all opposition, and defeating their 

K 



no LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

opponents, they proceeded onward to Ticonderoga. The British 
commander, hearing that the French were inconsiderable in num- 
ber, but that they were daily expecting large reinforcements, made 
a premature attack on the fort and was repulsed with considerable 
loss, when, notwithstanding the remonstrances of his officers, he 
raised the siege and precipitately retreated. Colonel Bradstreet, 
a provincial officer distinguished for his valour, intelligence, and 
activity, unwilling to participate in the disgrace of his commander, 
solicited his permission with a few men, to make an attempt on 
Fort Frontignac, a post of some consequence on Lake Ontario. 
Bradstreet succeeded in his enterprise. He laid siege to the fort 
on the 25th of August, and compelled the garrison to surrender 
at discretion on the 27th. He destroyed the fort, and nine armed 
vessels lying in the harbour, and such of the stores as he could 
not carry away. 

The formidable expedition against Louisburg, succeeded chiefly 
through the exertions of the gallant Wolfe, and it was surrendered 
to the fleet and army of Great Britain towards the end of July. 

Uninterrupted success henceforward attended the British arms 
during the remainder of the French war. In 1759, General Am- 
herst marched against Ticonderoga and Crown Point, which were 
evacuated on his approach. 

General Prideaux, meantime, with a strong detachment ad- 
vanced and laid siege to Fort Niagara. He was accidentally 
killed by the bursting of a cohorn ; but Sir William Johnson, his 
successor, pushing operations with increased vigour, completely 
defeated a large force which had been collected against him, 
added new laurels to those already won by him, and finally obliged 
the garrison to surrender. He conveyed them in safety as pri- 
soners of war to New York. 

But the most brilliant action of the whole war was the capture 
of Quebec by General Wolfe. He embarked at Louisburg with 
an army of eight thousand men, and, towards the end of June, 
landed on the Isle of Orleans, and immediately commenced opera- 
tions against the city. Quebec was principally built on a steep 
rock on the northern bank of the St. Lawrence, while the river 
St. Charles, which flowed past it on the east, and united with the 
St. Lawrence immediately below the town, defended it on that 
side, and gave it the security of a peninsular locality. There was 
a boom thrown across the mouth of the St. Charles, immediately 
within which the French fleet was moored. A formidable French 
army, commanded by the experienced Montcalm, was strongly 



TAKING OF QUEBEC. HI 

intrenched on the eastern side of this river, their encampment 
extending along the shore to the falls of the Montmorency, while 
their rear was defended by an impenetrable forest. With a force 
far inferior in numbers to the enemy, Wolfe laid vigorous siege to 
the place, secure of the means of retreat while the British fleet 
remained in the river. 

Perceiving that he could effect but little at the Isle of Orleans, 
General Wolfe, after a successful skirmish, took posession of Point 
Levi, on the opposite side of the St. Lawrence, and there erected 
batteries to annoy the town. This position was, however, at too great 
a distance to make any useful impression on the enemy's works, 
and feeling that the season for active operations was fast flying, and 
his own bodily strength diminishing, he determined to make use 
of every expedient to entice Montcalm from his defences. He 
accordingly planned an attack upon a redoubt at the mouth of the 
Montmorency; but the garrison, instead of offering resistance, 
retreated towards the encampment, while the French opening a 
tremendous fire upon his forces, he thought it best to retreat, with 
the loss of nearly five hundred men killed or wounded. 

Finding it impossible to approach the city on its eastern side, 
Wolfe now turned his eyes to the apparently inaccessible cliffs 
above, and which, on account of the difficulty of ascending them, 
were but feebly defended. He assembled a council of his prin- 
cipal officers, and it was resolved to make an attempt to gain the 
heights of Abraham, a lofty plain just above Quebec. "It was 
proposed to land the troops by night, at the foot of the rocks, a 
small distance above the city, and to climb to the summit before 
daybreak. This attempt manifestly involved extreme difficulty 
and hazard. The stream was rapid, the shore shelving, the bank 
of the river lined with French sentinels, the landing-place so nar- 
row as easily to be missed in the dark, and the cliff which must 
afterwards be surmounted so steep that it was difficult to ascend 
it even in open day and without opposition. Should the design 
be promulgated by a spy or deserter, or suspected by the enemy; 
should the disembarkation be disordered, through the darkness of 
the night or the obstructions of the shore ; the landing-place be 
mistaken, or but one sentinel alarmed, — the Heights of Abraham 
would instantly be covered with such numbers of troops as would 
render the attempt abortive and defeat inevitable. Though these 
circumstances of danger could not escape the penetration of 
Wolfe, yet he hesitated not a moment to embrace a project so 
congenial to his ardent and enterprising disposition, as well as to 



112 



LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 




GENERAL TOWNSHEND. 



the hazardous and embar- 
rassing predicament in 
which he was placed, and 
from which only some 
brilliant and soaring effort 
could extricate him to his 
own and his country's 
satisfaction. He reposed 
a gallant confidence in 
the very magnitude and 
peril of his attempt, and 
fortune extended her pro- 
verbial favour to the brave. 
His active powers revived 
with the near prospect of 
decisive action ; he soon 
recovered his health, so far 
as to be able to conduct the enterprise on which he was resolved 
to stake his fame ; and in the execution of it, displayed a force of 
judgment, and a deliberate valour and intrepidity that rivalled and 
vindicated the heroism of its conception.* 

On the night of the 12th of September, the attempt to land was 
successfully made, and by daybreak, on the 13th, the whole army 
was arrayed on the summit of the Heights of Abraham. Mont- 
calm, though astonished at the temerity and boldness of the British, 
instantly quitted his encampment, crossed the St. Charles, and the 
two armies were drawn up in battle array opposite to each other. 
About nine o'clock in the morning, the action was commenced, by 
the French advancing vigorously to the charge, and in a few 
moments the conflict became general along the whole line. Wolfe 
having been wounded in the wrist and in the groin, continued to 
lead on his troops without manifesting any signs of pain, until a 
third bullet pierced his breast, and he fell mortally wounded. 
General Monckton, who succeeded to the command, was soon 
obliged by a dangerous wound to resign the command to General 
Townshend. Montcalm was about the same time mortally wounded, 
and the second in command. General Senezergus, also fell. The 
loss of their general only incited the English to fresh acts of the 
most daring heroism, while the death of Montcalm seemed to 
produce a contrary effect upon the French ; who soon began to 
retreat on all sides. A thousand of the enemy were killed in the 

* Grahame's Colonial History. 



EXPULSION OF THE FRENCH FROM CANADA. 113 

battle and pursuit, and about the same number captured ; the 
remainder of the army fled, some to Quebec, and others to Trois 
Rivieres and Montreal. The English lost, in killed and wounded, 
less than six hundred men. 

On the 17th of September, five days after the battle, the city of 
Quebec, the capital of New France, was surrendered to the Eng- 
lish, and garrisoned by five thousand men under General Murray. 

Quebec was in great danger of being retaken during the winter, 
but was saved by the good conduct of General Murray. In the 
summer of 1760, he concerted with General Amherst a combined 
attack upon Montreal, which was still held for France, by the 
Marquis de Vandreuil. The march of the two armies was planned 
with such precision that they both, by different routes, arrived 
before Montreal on the same day. The French general, perceiving 
from the skilful movements and superior numbers of the British 
armies that resistance would be ineffectual, demanded a capitula- 
tion, and on the 8th of September, 1760, he surrendered Montreal 
and all Canada to the British ; which was finally secured to them 
by the treaty of Paris, concluded February 10, 1763. Thus 
ended the colonial empire of France in North America ; for though 
she still possessed the infant colony of Louisiana and the growing 
town of New Orleans, yet this settlement was so thinly peopled, 
and possessed such meagre resources, that had it not been for the 
supplies of provisions which it received from the British colonies, 
it could scarcely have maintained itself for a year. 




15 k2 



114 



LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 




PARISH CHUBCH OF WA S H I N Q T N AT ALEXANDRIA. 



CHAPTER VIII. 



JEai'ttage O'l OTa0|i)iiiiigt®E. 



HE marriage of Washington took place 
in 1759. It was in the month of May, 
1758, that he undertook a journey from 
Fort Loudoun to Williamsburg, in the 
course of which he first became ac- 
quainted with Mrs. Custis, his future 
wife. The Virginia regiment being in 
want of many of the necessary munitions 
of war, and the Assembly not seeming to 
heed the representations of the com- 
manding officers. Sir John St. Clair, the 
quarter-master of the army under Gene- 
ral Forbes, thought it expedient to de- 
spatch Colonel Washington, to represent 
to the president of the council, then acting as governor^ the pos- 
ture of affairs at Winchester, and to obviate, by personal explana- 
tion, any doubts that might arise from the best written narrative ; 
with instructions to urge upon the council and Assembly the ne- 
cessity of putting the Virginia troops in a fit condition to proceed 
and aid in the capture of Fort Duquesne. Washington's first 




FIRST INTERVIEW WITH MRS. CUSTIS. 115 

interview with Mrs. Custis, as well as her character during the 
remainder of her life, is thus truly and beautifully described by 
Mrs. Sigourney : — 

It was in the spring of 1758, that two gentlemen, attended by 
a servant, were seen riding through the luxuriant scenery with 
which the county of New Kent, in Virginia, abounds. The most 
striking figure of the group was tall, graceful, and commanding, 
in a rich military undress, and apparently twenty-five or twenty- 
six years of age. He would have been held a model for the 
statuary when Rome was in her best days. His companion was 
an elderly man, in a plain garb, who, by the familiarity with which 
he pointed out surrounding objects, would seem to be taking his 
daily round upon his own estate. As they approached the avenue 
to an antique mansion, he placed his hand upon the rein of his 
companion : 

"Nay, Colonel Washington, let it never be said that you passed 
the house of your father's friend without dismounting. I must 
insist on the honour of detaining you as my guest." 

"Thanks to you, my dear sir, but I ride in haste, the bearer of 
despatches to our governor in Williamsburg, which may not brook 
delay." 

"Is this the noble steed which was given you by the dying 
Braddock, on the fatal field of the Monongahela ? and this the ser- 
vant which he bequeathed you at the same time ?" 

Washington answered in the affirmative. 

"Then, my dear colonel, thus mounted and attended, you may 
well dine with me, and by borrowing somewhat of this fine moon- 
light, reach Williamsburg ere his excellency shall have shaken 
off his morning slumbers." 

"Do I understand that I may be excused immediately after 
dinner ?" 

"Immediately, with all the promptness of military discipline. 

"Then, sir, I accept your hospitality;" and gracefully throwing 
himself from his spirited charger, he resigned the reins to his 
English servant, giving, at the same time, strict orders as to the 
hour when he must be ready with the horses to pursue their 
journey. 

"I am rejoiced. Colonel Washington," said the hospitable old 
gentleman, "thus fortunately to have met you on my morning 
ride ; and the more so, as I have some guests who will make the 
repast pass pleasantly, and will not fail to appreciate our young 
and valiant soldier." 



116 • LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

Washington bowed his tjaanks, and was introduced to the com- 
pany. Virginia's far-famed hospitality was well set forth in that 
spacious baronial nail. Precise in his household regulations, the 
social feast was closed at the time the host had predicted. The 
servant also was punctual. He knew the habits of his master. 
At the appointed moment, he stood with the horses caparisoned 
at the gate. Long did the proud steed champ his bit, and curve 
his arching neck, and paw the broken turf. And much did the 
menial marvel, as, listening to every footstep that paced down the 
avenue, he saw the sun sink in the west, and yet no master 
appear. When was he ever before known to fail in an appoint- 
ment ? The evening air breathed cool and damp, and soothed 
the impatience of the chafing courser. At length, orders came 
that the horses should be put up for the night. Wonder upon 
wonder ! when his business wdth the governor was so urgent ! 
The sun rode high in the heavens the next day, ere Washington 
mounted for his journey. No explanation was given. But it was 
rumoured, that among the guests was a beautiful and youthful 
widow, to whose charms his heart had responded. This was fur- 
ther confirmed, by his tarrying but a brief space at Williamsburg, 
and retracing his route with unusual celerity, and becoming a 
frequent visiter at the house of the late Colonel Custis, in that 
vicinity, where, the following year, (January 6, 1759,) his nup- 
tials were celebrated. <<And rare and high," says G. W. P. 
Custis, Esq., the descendant and biographer of the lady, '< rare 
and high was the revelry, at that palmy period of Virginia's festal 
age ; for many were gathered to that marriage, of the good, the 
great, the gifted, and the gay ; while Virginia, with joyful accla- 
mation, hailed in the prosperous and happy bridegroom her 
favourite hero." 

Henceforth, the life of the lady of Mount Vernon is a part of 
the history of her country. In that hallowed retreat, she was found 
entering into the plans of Washington, sharing his confidence, 
and making his household happy. There, her only daughter, 
Martha Custis, died in the bloom of youth ; and a few years after, 
when the troubles of the country drew her husband to the post of 
commander-in-chief of her armies, she accompanied him to Bos- 
ton, and witnessed its siege and evacuation. For eight years he 
returned no more to enjoy his beloved residence on the banks of 
the Potomac. During his absence she made the most strenuous 
efforts to discharge the added weight of care, and to endure, with 
changeless trust in Heaven, continual anxiety for the safety of one 



MARTHA WASHINGTON. 117 

so inexpressibly dear. At the close of each campaign, she 
repaired, in compliance with his wishes, to head-quarters, where 
the ladies of the general officers joined her in forming such a 
society, as diffused a cheering influence over even the gloom of 
the winter at Valley-Forge and Morristown. The opening of 
every campaign was the signal of the return of Lady Washington 
(as she was called in the army) to her domestic cares at Mount 
Vernon. <<I heard," said she, "the first and the last cannon of 
the revolutionary war." The rejoicings which attended the sur- 
render of Cornwallis, in the autumn of 1781, marked for her a 
season of the deepest private sorrow. Her only remaining child, 
Colonel John Custis, the aide-de-camp of Washington, became, 
during his arduous duties at the siege of Yorktown, the victim of 
an epidemic fever, and died at the age of twenty-seven. He was 
but a boy of five years, at the time of her second marriage, and 
had drawn forth strongly the affection and regard of her illustrious 
husband, who shared her affliction for his loss, and by the ten- 
derest sympathy strove to alleviate it. 

After the close of the war, a few years were devoted to the 
enjoyment and embellishments of their favourite Mount Vernon. 
The peace and returning prosperity of their country gave pure and 
bright ingredients to their cup of happiness. Their mansion was 
thronged with guests of distinction, all of whom remarked, with 
admiration, the energy of Mrs. Washington, in the complicated 
duties of a Virginia housewife, and the elegance and grace with 
which she presided at her noble board. 

The voice of a free nation, conferring on General Washington 
the highest honour in its power to bestow, was not obeyed without 
a sacrifice of feeling. It was in the spring of 1789, that, with his 
lady, he bade adieu to his tranquil abode, to assume the responsi- 
bilities of the first presidency. In forming his domestic establish- 
ment, he mingled the simplicity of a republic with that degree of 
dignity, which he felt was necessary to secure the respect of older 
governments. The furniture of his house, the livery of his ser- 
vants, the entertainment of his guests, displayed elegance, while 
they rejected ostentation. In all these arrangements, Mrs. Wash- 
ington was as a second self. Her Friday evening levees, at 
which he was always present, exhibited that perfect etiquette 
which marks the intercourse of the dignified and high-bred. 
Commencing at seven, and closing at ten, they lent no more sanc- 
tion to late hours than to levity. The first lady of the nation still 
preserved the habits of early life. Indulging in no indolence, she 



118 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

left her pillow at dawn, and, after breakfast, retired to her chamber 
an hour, for the study of the Scriptures and devotion. This prac- 
tice, it is said, during the long period of half a century, she never 
omitted. The duties of the Sabbath were dear to her. The Pre- 
sident and herself attended public worship with regularity, and 
in the evening he read to her, in her chamber, the Scriptures, and 
a sermon." 

Receiving with his wife an addition to his fortune of more than 
a hundred thousand dollars, it became necessary for Washington 
to devote a considerable portion of his time to the care and 
management of his estate. Accordingly, in April, 1759, he 
retired with Mrs. Washington to Mount Vernon ; having spent 
the three months intervening from the time of his marriage, in 
arranging the affairs of his wife's estate, and in attending the ses- 
sion of the House of Burgesses, which was convened in February. 
For, during the last campaign, while advancing upon Fort Du- 
quesne, he was chosen by the people of Frederic County to repre- 
sent them in the Assembly. 

When he first took his seat in the house, an incident occurred, 
of sufficient interest to require a notice in this place. The House 
of Burgesses resolved to return their thanks to him in a public 
manner for the services he had rendered his country, and this duty 
devolved on his friend, Mr. Robinson, the speaker of the House. 
As soon as Colonel Washington had taken his seat, the speaker 
discharged the duty imposed upon him with all the warmth of 
panegyric which personal regard and a full appreciation of his 
merits could dictate. This unwonted and unexpected honour 
completely robbed the young warrior of his self-possession. He 
rose to express his acknow^ledgment, but such was his trepidation 
and confusion that he could not give distinct utterance to a sylla- 
ble. For a moment he blushed, stammered, and trembled, when 
the speaker relieved him with a stroke of address that would have 
done honour to Louis the Fourteenth in his proudest and happiest 
moments : <<Sit down, Mr. Washington," said he with a concili- 
ating smile, << your modesty is equal to your valour, and that sur- 
passes the power of any language that I possess."* 

From this period until he was called upon to take part in the 
revolution, a period of fifteen years, Washington was constantly 
a member of the Virginia House of Burgesses, being returned at 
every election, with large majorities over every opponent. During 
tlie first half of this period he represented the county of Frederic 
• Wirt's Life of Patrick Henry. 



CHARACTER AS A LEGISLATOR. 119 

in conjunction with another gentleman, and during the remainder 
of the time, the county of Fairfax in which he resided. 

In the House of Burgesses, Washington was by no means dis- 
tinguished for his eloquence. He " had none of those brilliant 
and extraordinary qualities which strike at once upon the human 
imagination. He was not one of those ardent spirits, eager to 
explode, driven onwards by the energy of their thoughts or of their 
passions, and scattering about them the exuberance of their own 
natures, before either opportunity or necessity has called forth the 
exercise of their powers. Unacquainted with aught of inward 
agitation, untormented by the promptings of splendid ambition, 
Washington anticipated none of the occurrences of his life, and 
aspired not to win the admiration of mankind. His firm intellect 
and his high heart were profoundly modest and calm. Capable 
of rising to the level of the highest greatness, he could, without a 
pang, have remained ignorant of his own powers, and he would 
have found in the cultivation of his estate enough to satisfy those 
vast faculties which were equal to the command of armies and the 
foundation of a government. But when the opportunity occurred, 
when the need was, without an effort on his part, and without 
surprise on that of others, or rather, as has just been shown, in 
conformity with their expectations, the wise planter shone forth a 
great man. He had, to a very high degree, the two qualities 
which, in active life, fit men for great achievements ; he trusted 
firmly in his own thoughts, and dared resolutely to act upon 
them, without fear of responsibility."* 

The interest with which his remarks were always listened to, 
arose out of the importance of the subjects which elicited them, 
the manifest soundness of his views, and the unbiassed directness 
of his political course. Even at this early period of life, the 
sobriety of his judgment anticipated the claims of advanced age ; 
and though he rarely generated enthusiasm in his hearers, yet he 
almost invariably convinced their minds and obtained their con- 
currence. He evidently acted in his own person, upon the advice 
which he subsequently gave to his nephew on his first appearance 
in the Assembly. "If you have a mind to secure the attention of 
the House," he said, "speak seldom but on important subjects, 
except such as particularly relate to your constituents ; and in the 
former case, make yourself completely master of the subject. 
Never exceed a decent warmth, and submit your sentiments with 

• Guizot. 



120 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

diffidence. A dictatorial style, though it may carry conviction, is 
always accompanied with disgust."* 

On his estate at Mount Vernon, Washington engaged exten- 
sively in the business of agriculture, and is said to have been 
remarkable for the judgment he displayed in the improvement of 
his lands. On his farm he displayed the same general features 
of character, by which he was distinguished, when he led the 
army and fought the battles of his country. The fixedness and 
tenacity of purpose which we have seen marking his military 
operations, now re-appeared in the systematic energy with which 
he reduced to order those complicated interests which had long 
been endangered by irregidarity and neglect ; while the same 
imperturbable sobriety of judgment which had contributed equally 
with his martial valour to the preservation of his country, was 
again exhibited in the prudential care of minor interests, and in 
unvarying seemliness of deportment. Every branch of business 
was conducted upon system. Exact method and economy were 
carried into every department of his domestic concerns. He 
personally inspected the account of his overseers every week ; the 
divisions of his farms were numbered, and the expense of culti- 
vation, and the produce of each lot, were exactly registered ; so 
that at one view he could determine the profit or loss of any parti- 
cular crop, and ascertain the comparative advantage of various 
modes of husbandry. He became one of the largest landholders in 
North America. Besides other tracts of great extent and value, his 
Mount Vernon estate consisted of nine thousand acres, which 
were entirely under his own management ; and from it alone, he 
in one year raised seven thousand bushels of wheat, and ten thou- 
sand of Indian corn. His establishments, agricultural and do- 
mestic, consisted of no fewer than a thousand persons; and though 
the greater part of his farming implements were obtained from 
London, the linen and woollen cloth required in his business were 
chiefly manufactured on the estate. 

It was during this period of Washington's life that he officiated 
as judge of the county court. He was also elected a vestryman 
in Truro parish, and there, as in the House of Burgesses, exercised 
his powers, and spent his time in seeking the good of his consti- 
tuents, his fellow-parishioners. On one occasion, about the year 
1765, he gained a triumph of some moment, which has often been 
cited by the venerable Mr. Massey, then the clergyman of the 
parish, as an instance of characteristic address. "The dilapida- 

* Sparks. 



RELIGIOUS OBSERVANCES. 121 

tion of the old church rendering it expedient either to repair or 
rebuild, the subject was agitated in the vestry, of which Colonel 
Washington was a member. It having been determined after due 
consideration, that a new church should be built, the question of 
location next presented itself. George Mason, a prominent mem- 
ber of the vestry, was in favour of the old situation, in the neigh- 
bourhood of which he had his residence. Others maintained that 
its site was not sufficiently central. George Mason supposed the 
place, if not perfectly central, yet not seriously inconvenient of 
access to any; and especially thought that the sacred associations 
which belonged to it, as the place of worship for several genera- 
tions, and as hallowed by the sepulchres of their fathers, should 
induce a preference for the spot. Colonel Washington differed 
with George Mason, < objecting to the distance and the inconve- 
nience to which his plan would subject the parishioners. He, 
moreover, could not see the force of the consideration derived 
from the contiguity of the grave-yard. He thought churches were 
erected for the living, and not for th^ dead. Nor was it necessary 
that any desecration of the place should occur. The ashes of the 
dead could be preserved inviolably secure by a proper enclosure.' 
The vestry, however, adjourned, without coming to any settled 
conclusion, another meeting being appointed with a view to a 
final decision. 

"In the mean time Colonel Washington occupied himself in sur- 
veying the parish, ascertaining its limits, and the relative position 
of the old church. Having done this, and prepared a draught of 
the survey with his usual accuracy and neatness, he awaited the 
meeting of the vestry. On that occasion, George Mason again 
urged, and with increased vehemence, the claims of the old situa- 
tion. Having done so, Colonel Washington repeated his former 
objections, and dwelt upon the remoteness of the place, took from 
his pocket the plan which he had prepared, in which the old 
church was found to be in an extreme corner of the parish. This 
ocular demonstration soon settled the matter, and brought about 
a decision against the old and in favour of the new location, 
which would bring the church in the centre of the parish. 

"Here it was, at the new or Pohick Church, that Washington 
habitually attended, from the period of its erection, till the com- 
mencement of the Revolutionary War. Here he offered his 
adorations to the God and Father of all, and here received the 
symbols of a Saviour's love at the hands of the consecrated ser- 
vant of the altar. 

16 L 



122 



LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 



"The Rev. Lee Massey was the rector of the parish here referred 
to. He was a highly respectable man, and shared much of the 
esteem of Washington. In regard to the religious deportment of 
his distinguished friend, especially in the house of God, he has 
often been heard to express himself in the following strain : ' I 
never knew so constant an attendant on church as Washington. 
And his behaviour in the house of God was ever so deeply reve- 
rential, that it produced the happiest effects on my congregation ; 
and greatly assisted me in my pulpit labours. No company ever 
withheld him from church. I have often been at Mount Vernon, 
on the Sabbath morning when his breakfast table was filled with 
guests ; but to him they furnished no pretext for neglecting his 
God, and losing the satisfaction of setting a good example. For 
instead of staying at home, out of false complaisance to them, he 
used constantly to invite them to accompany him.' " 

* McGuLre. 




THE STAMP ACT. 



123 




GZOBOB QRENVILLB. 

CHAPTER IX. 




NALTERABLY mindful as he was 
of his religious, domestic, and pa- 
rish duties, Washington still con- 
tinued to watch with a jealous eye 
the progress of public events, espe- 
cially as occurring in the intercourse 
of the colonies with the mother 
country. The French war having 
occasioned a heavy increase of ex- 
pense to the British government, the ministers began to look for 
remuneration to the American colonies, for whose immediate 
benefit the increased expense had been incurred. Resolutions 
had previously passed the British parliament, declaring the expe- 
diency of laying a stamp duty in America ; but, before 1765, they 
had not been followed by any legislative act. The mere declara- 
tion, however, of a right denied by the colonists, of imposing on 



124 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

them a tax without their consent, was sufficient to call from them 
innumerable remonstrances, and strong constitutional objections 
were urged to the passage of such an act by statesmen of both 
England and America. 

Notwithstanding the remonstrances and the powerful reasons 
offered against this unjust and hazardous experiment, in March, 
1765, George Grenville, the first commissioner of the Treasury, 
introduced a bill into the House of Commons for imposing a 
stamp duty on the American colonies. By this act, the instruments 
of writing in daily use among a commercial people were to be 
null and void, unless executed upon parchment or paper stamped 
with a specific duty. Law documents and leases, articles of 
apprenticeship and contracts, protests and bills of sale, newspapers 
and advertisements, almanacs and pamphlets, all must contribute 
to the British treasury. The unjust and oppressive nature of this 
bill raised up for it opponents, even in the British parliament. Its 
passage was eloquently opposed by Colonel Barre, an officer who 
had served with the British army in America, and who was dis- 
tinguished in the House of Commons, as one of the firmest and 
strongest supporters of civil liberty. The celebrated Charles 
Townshend, who afterwards succeeded to Grenville's office, replied 
in support of the bill, and after severely reprobating the attacks 
made upon it by Colonel Barre, concluded by indignantly de- 
manding : " And now, will these Americans — children planted by 
our care, nourished by our indulgence till they are grown up to 
a degree of strength and opulence, and protected by our arms — 
will they grudge to contribute their mite to relieve us from the 
heavy weight of that burden which we lie under ?" 

To this invidious appeal to the pride and prejudices of the 
members of the House of Commons, Colonel Barre, after repelling 
the censure personally addressed to him, thus energetically replied 
to the conclusion of his opponent's remarks : 

'< They planted by your care ! No, your oppressions planted 
them in America. They fled from your tyranny to a then uncul- 
tivated and inhospitable country, where they exposed themselves 
to almost all the hardships to which human nature is liable ; and 
among others to the cruelties of a savage foe, the most subtle, 
and, I will take upon me to say, the most formidable of any peo- 
ple upon the face of God's earth ; and yet, actuated by the princi- 
ples of true English liberty, they preferred all hardships to those 
which they had endured in their own country from the hands of 
men who should have been their friends. They nourished by your 



COLONEL BARRE'S SPEECH, 125 

indulgence ! They grew by your neglect of them. As soon as 
you began to care about them, that care was exercised in sending 
persons to rule them in one department or another, who were, 
perhaps, the deputies of deputies to some members of this house, 
sent to spy out their liberties, to misrepresent their actions, and 
to prey upon them, — men, whose behaviour, on many occasions, 
has caused the blood of those sons of liberty to recoil within 
them, — men, promoted to the highest seats of justice, some of 
whom to my knowledge were glad, by going to a foreign country, 
to escape being brought to the bar of a court of justice in their 
own. They protected by your arms ! They have nobly taken up 
arms in your defence ; and have exerted a shining valour, 
amidst their constant and laborious industry, for the defence of a 
country whose frontier was drenched in blood, while its interior 
parts yielded all their little savings to your emoluments. And 
believe me, — remember, I this day told you so, that the same 
spirit of freedom which actuated that people at first will accompany 
them still ; but prudence forbids me to explain myself farther. 
God knows I do not at this time speak from motives of party 
spirit ; what I deliver are the genuine sentiments of my heart. 
However superior to me in general knowledge and experience the 
respectable body of this house may be, yet I claim to know more 
of America than most of you ; having seen and been conversant 
with that country. The people, I believe, are as truly loyal as 
any subjects the king has, — but they are a people jealous of their 
liberties, and will vindicate them, if ever they should be violated. 
But the subject is too delicate, I will say no more," 

Though the act was further opposed by General Conway, Alder- 
man Beckford, and a few others, it passed the Commons by a 
majority of two hundred and fifty to fifty. In the House of Lords 
it met with no opposition ; and on the 22d of March received the 
royal assent, though it was not to take effect until the first of No- 
vember following. The night after the bill passed. Dr. Franklin, 
then in London, wrote to Mr, Charles Thomson: "The sun of 
liberty is set ; you must light up the candles of industry and 
economy," Mr. Thomson replied: "I was apprehensive that 
other lights would be the consequence, and I foresee the opposi- 
tion that will be made," 

The intelligence of the passage of the Stamp Act was received 
in America with feelings of stupified amazement. Had its autho- 
rity and operation come close upon the announcement, it is im- 
possible to imagine what wonder and terror might have done, 

l3 



126 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

Happily for liberty, th^re was time given for its consideration and 
discussion. The Assembly of Virginia was in session when the 
heavy tidings arrived. On the 28th of May, Patrick Henry intro- 
duced into that body a series of resolutions, which, after some 
opposition, was finally passed. The tenor of these resolutions may 
be gathered from two of them, which were as follows: — "Re- 
solved, that his majesty's most liege people of this his most ancient 
colony, have enjoyed the right of being thus governed by their 
own Assembly in the article of taxes and internal police, and that 
the same have never been forfeited, nor in any other way yielded 
up, but have been constantly recognised by the king and people 
of Great Britain. 

"Resolved, therefore, that the General Assembly of this colony, 
together with his majesty, or his substitute, have, in their repre- 
sentative capacity, the only exclusive right and power to lay taxes 
and impositions upon the inhabitants of this colony ; and that 
every attempt to vest such a power in any person or })ersons 
whatsoever, other than the General Assembly aforesaid, is illegal, 
unconstitutional, and unjus^, and bears a manifest tendency to 
destroy British as well as American freedom." 

The opponents of Henry's resolutions loaded him with abuse, 
and so galled him with menaces, that, at one stage of the discus- 
sion, he was provoked to a tone of defiance, and his words, memo- 
rable as they are in themselves, were made immortal by the 
remarkable scene produced by them. "Caesar," he exclaimed, 
"had his Brutus, Charles the First his Cromwell, and George the 
Third," here he was interrupted by the cry of Treason, repeated 
by the Speaker, and echoed from every part of the House ; but, 
drowning the startling cry with his commanding voice, he con- 
tinued, " George the Third, I say, may profit by their example ! 
If this be treason, make the most of it." 

Washington was a member of the Assembly which passed these 
resolutions, and though his name does not appear on the minutes, 
yet that he was arrayed on the side of liberty may be safely and 
surely inferred from his letter to his wife's uncle in London, writ- 
ten a short time afterwards. 

"At present," he says, "there are few things among us that can 
be interesting to you. The Stamp Act imposed on the colonies 
by the parliament of Great Britain, engrosses the conversation of 
the speculative part of the colonists, who look upon this unconsti- 
tutional method of taxation as a direful attack upon their liberties, 
and loudly exclaim against the violation. What may be the result 



OPINION ON THE STAMP ACT. 127 

of this, and of some other (I think I may add ill-judged) mea- 
sures, I will not undertake to determine ; but this I may venture 
to affirm, that the advantage accruing to the mother country will 
fall greatly short of the expectations of the ministry ; for certain it 
is, that our whole substance already in a manner flows to Great 
Britain, and that whatsoever contributes to lessen our importations 
must be hurtful to her manufacturers. The eyes of our people 
already begin to be opened ; and they will perceive, that many 
luxuries, for which we lavish our substance in Great Britain, can 
well be dispensed with, whilst the necessaries of life are mostly to 
be had within ourselves. This, consequently, wall introduce fru- 
gality, and be a necessary incitement to industry. If Great Bri- 
tain, therefore, loads her manufactures with heavy taxes, will it 
not facilitate such results? They will not compel us to give our 
money for their exports, whether we will or not ; and I am cer- 
tain that none of their traders will part with them without a valu- 
able consideration. Where, then, is the utility of these restric- 
tions ? 

"As to the Stamp Act, regarded in a single view, one and the 
first bad consequence attending it is, that our courts of judicature 
must inevitably be shut up ; for it is impossible, or next to impos- 
sible, under our present circumstances, that the act of parliament 
can be complied with, were we ever so willing to enforce its exe- 
cution. And, not to say (which alone would be sufficient) that 
we have not money to pay for the stamps, there are many other 
cogent reasons which prove that it would be ineffi^ctual. If a stop 
be put to our judicial proceedings, I fancy the merchants of Great 
Britain, trading to the colonies, will not be among the last to wish 
for a repeal of the act." 

When the governor became acquainted with the work upon 
which the Assembly was engaged, it was dissolved, and writs for 
new elections were issued ; but so entirely did the people take 
part with the opposition to the scheme of taxation proposed by the 
British ministry, that, in almost every instance, those members 
who had voted in favour of the above resolutions were re-elected, 
while those who had voted against them were generally excluded 
in favour of candidates who favoured the popular opinions. 

Similar sentiments flew like lightning through the other colo- 
nies, but the representatives of Massachusetts originated a still 
more momentous innovation, by recommending a congress of 
deputies to meet at New York, in order to consult upon the posi- 
tion in which the colonies at large were placed. Nine colonies 



128 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

responded to this call ; Virginia, North Carolina, and Georgia, 
being prevented by the difficulty of convoking their assemblies, 
when opposed by the governors. New Hampshire was not repre- 
sented, from some unknown cause. This convention adopted a 
series of fourteen resolutions, in which they denounced the injus- 
tice and ruinous consequences of their being taxed without being 
represented : a privilege, which, from their distance, it was im- 
possible to enjoy. They prepared an address to the throne, and 
petitions to both houses of parliament, in which this sentiment 
was forcibly expressed, while they declared that their connection 
with the empire formed their greatest happiness and security. 

The people of the colonies, in the mean time, everywhere 
formed combinations against the execution of the Stamp Act. It 
was resolved to dispense with stamps upon the various instru- 
ments, to the validity of which they had previously been consi- 
dered necessary, to abandon litigation for the settlement of dis- 
putes, as well as to abandon, as far as possible, the importation of 
British manufactures. The day on which the Stamp Act was to 
come into force, was ushered in by the general tolling of bells, 
and by other demonstrations of popular regret. 

Meanwhile, in England, affairs began to take a favourable turn 
for the colonists, through circumstances wholly independent of 
the merits of the question. A turn of the political wheel brought 
into power the Marquis of Rockingham, a nobleman professing 
principles decidedly liberal. The colonial department was in- 
trusted to General Conway, who had stood forward as the zealous 
advocate of the Americans. His views were seconded by peti- 
tions from London, Liverpool, Manchester, Birmingham, New- 
castle, Glasgow, and other great commercial towns, deprecating 
the loss of their lucrative commerce. Yet ministers were beset 
with considerable difficulties, having to maintain the honour of 
the British government, which would be seriously compromised 
and its authority weakened by yielding to a resistance thus vio- 
lently urged. In the debate on the address, Mr. Grenville main- 
tained that if the government yielded, their power over America was 
lost; what was now almost rebellion would become a revolution. 
"The seditious spirit in the colonies owed its birth, he said, to 
factions in the House. We were bid to expect disobedience ; what 
was this but telling the Americans to resist — to encourage their 
obstinacy with the expectation of support ?" This argument, 
however, seems untenable, when we consider the apathy shown in 
parliament till the disturbances had actually arisen. Mr. Nugent, 



REPEAL OF THE STAMP ACT. 129 

afterwards Lord Clare, insisted that the colonies should at least 
be obliged to own the right of taxation, and to solicit the repeal 
of the late act as a favour. The opposite cause was most strenu- 
ously advocated by Mr. Pitt, who, after a long illness, reappeared 
on the scene. On the proposal to tax America, so great he said 
had been his agitation for the consequences, that if he could have 
been carried in his bed, and placed on the floor of the House, he 
would have come to bear testimony against it. He maintained 
the supremacy of Great Britain in all matters of government and 
legislation ; the greater must rule the less ; but taxes were a gift 
or grant from the people ; and how could any assembly give or 
grant what was not their own. <<I rejoice," said he, "that Ame- 
rica has resisted. Three millions of people, so dead to all the 
feelings of liberty as voluntarily to submit to be slaves, would 
have been fit instruments to make slaves of the rest. In a good 
cause, on a sound bottom, the force of this country can crush 
America to atoms. But on this ground your success would be 
hazardous. America, if she fell, would fall like the strong man ; 
she would embrace the pillars of the state, and pull down the con- 
stitution along with her." 

These debates resulted in the passage of a "declaratory act," 
on the 24th of February, 1766, which asserted " that the parliament 
have, and of right ought to have, power to bind the colonies in 
all cases whatsoever ;" and was followed on the 19th of March 
by another, repealing the Stamp Act. Notwithstanding the unpa- 
latable ingredient with which this act was accompanied, the joy 
of America, on receiving the intelligence, was unbounded. The 
assertion of the abstract principle of right gave the colonists but 
little concern, because they considered it as merely intended to save 
the honour of the nation, and believed confidently, that no future 
attempt would be made to reduce it to practice. The highest 
honours were everywhere decreed to those members of parlia- 
ment who had been strenuous in obtaining a repeal of the obnox- 
ious act, and in Virginia, an act passed the House of Burgesses, 
for erecting a statue to his majesty, as an acknowledgment of 
their high sense of his attention to the rights and petitions of his 
people. 

The opinions of Washington, on this occasion, may be perceived 
from a letter written at the time, to a friend in London, in which, 
after glancing at the unhappy consequences which might have 
followed fi-om the prosecution of the designs of the Grenville 
government, he says : 
17 



130 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

" Those, therefore, who wisely foresaw such an event, and were 
instrumental in procuring a repeal of the act, are, in my opinion, 
deservedly entitled to the thanks of the well-wishers to Britain 
and her colonies, and must reflect with pleasure, that, through 
their means, many scenes of confusion and distress have been 
prevented. Mine they accordingly have, and always shall have, 
for their opposition to any act of oppression ; and that act could 
be looked upon in no other light by every person who would 
view it in its proper colours." 

In the joy of the colonists on the retraction of the sentiments 
and designs indicated in the Stamp Act, all past jealousies were 
merged, and it may safely be said that the union of the colonies 
with the mother country was never more complete than at this mo- 
ment. This disposition, however, was not suffered long to con- 
tinue. An entirely new cabinet came into power, at the head of 
which was, nominally, Mr. Pitt, the friend of America ; but his 
health was so broken that he was unable to take part in public 
affairs, and the lead was taken by Charles Townshend, now chan- 
cellor of the Exchequer, a man of the most brilliant wit and elo- 
quence, whom we have already seen advocating measures in oppo- 
sition to the interests of America. 

The power of Townshend over the House of Commons was 
almost unbounded, but he was destitute of those solid qualities 
which are so necessary to statesmen, while he suffered himself to 
be impelled by an inordinate vanity to the vain attempt to please 
both parties. Finding that concession to America was in bad 
odour among the majority of the House, he determined to attempt 
the perilous measure of imposing a tax on the colonies, which 
would be less offensive to them as well as more efficacious than 
the Stamp Act. 

With artistic hand he avoided the vexed question, and called 
the imposition of revenue a regulation of trade. The right to make 
regulations of trade had been exercised by Britain, and acceded 
to by the colonists ; consequently he thought himself safe in 1767, 
in bringing forward a bill which was quickly passed into a law, 
for granting duties on glass, paper, tea, and painters' colours, 
exported from Britain to British colonies. 

But England had now to deal with a strong and enlightened 
people. They would have borne this load without a murmur, 
before their jealousy was aroused and the integrity of their liberty 
questioned ; but now they recognised in it the first fruit of the 
Declaratory Act, and it was met immediately by bold and animated 



OPPOSITION TO TAXATION. 131 

discussions as to the distinction between tax bills, and bills for 
the regulation of trade. To add to the alarm of the colonists, a 
board of resident commissioners of customs was established at 
each of the principal sea-ports. The principle of these arrange- 
ments, as the prime minister well knew, could not be objected to, 
but they pressed with such severity upon the colonists that their 
indignation was tenfold stronger than before. The new regula- 
tions were spoken of as a burden, and a curse. "Nothing," said 
they, "is left us but to complain and pay." They soon disco- 
vered another alternative, of which they made noble use. 

Redress was at first sought through constitutional channels. 
Memorials, petitions, remonstrances, were all tried, but in vain. 
A harder necessity suggested bolder remedies. The Assembly of 
Massachusetts, in January, 1768, drew up a petition to the king, 
asserting, in decided, though not violent terms, the right of exemp- 
tion from all taxes imposed without their consent ; and soon after 
they took the more obnoxious measure of entering a resolution on 
their minutes, directing that a circular letter should be written to 
the speakers of the different Assemblies throughout the colonies, 
requesting their co-operation and assistance in seeking for "a 
legal and constitutional redress of their grievances." This reso- 
lution was violently resisted at first, and decided in the negative; 
but, on its being renewed the next day, it was passed by a large 
majority. This proceeding displeased the governor, and the Earl 
of Hillsborough, the colonial secretary of England, being informed 
of it, directed Governor Bernard to call upon the Assembly to 
rescind the resolution, or, in case of non-compliance, to dissolve 
it. Accordingly, in June, the governor, as if rescinding the 
resolution could unwrite the letter, demanded its erasure from the 
records of the house. A strong confirmatory resolution, passed 
by a vote of 92 to 17, was its answer. This resolution, however, 
was not adopted until after several ineffectual attempts at expla- 
nation, which resulted only in recrimination and defiance. The 
governor immediately dissolved the Assembly, and sent a counter 
circular to the other Assemblies, warning them not to follow the 
example of that of Massachusetts. 

At Boston fresh grounds of irritation continually arose. When 
the commissioners of customs arrived, they met with undisguised 
resentment from the populace. Associating them with a wide 
scheme of subjugation, the people shunned them as evil things. 
But as the preparation for exacting the revenue proceeded, the 
gloom of the people deepened into anger, and threatened revenge. 



132 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

Some slight disturbances took place. The vessels of war in the 
bay shifted their moorings ; and on land and water every thing 
wore an alarming aspect. The seizure of the sloop Liberty — an 
ominous name — belonging to John Hancock, a popular leader, for 
an infringment of the revenue laws, incited the people to renewed 
acts of violence, which drove the commissioners of customs for 
shelter to Castle William. To suppress this spirit of insubordi- 
nation, the ships of war were brought nearer to the town, and two 
regiments of soldiers were ordered from New York to Boston. 
The intention of the British government to send this force to Bos- 
ton having been announced, the selectmen of ninety-six towns of 
the colony of Massachusetts met in Faneuil Hall, and disclaim- 
ing legislative authority, merely recommended moderate measures, 
and then dissolved itself The day after the adjournment of this 
convention, the troops arrived, and landed without opposition 
under the protection of the armed vessels in the harbour. 

The intelligence of the refractory spirit manifested by the inhabit- 
ants of Boston, produced such irritation in the British parliament, 
that in February, 1769, resolutions were adopted, prompting the 
king to vigorous measures against all persons guilty of what they 
were pleased to denominate treasonable acts ; and pledging the 
faith of the kingdom to second the most vigorous measures his 
majesty could adopt. They went so Lr as to beseech him, in pur- 
suance of powers contained in an obsolete law, to seize the offend- 
ers, and bring them to England, to be tried under a special com- 
mission. 

Previous to this impolitic action of parliament, (in March, 1768,) 
the people of Massachusetts had entered into an agreement for the 
non-importation of British goods until the objectionable taxes 
should be removed. These agreements were now renewed, and 
observed with increased rigour. With the speed of evil tidings, 
the resolutions of parliament reached the colony of Virginia. The 
Assembly of that province being then in session, guided by the 
genius of Patrick Henry, counter-resolutions were proposed and 
carried, by which the principles of American liberty were again 
asserted. Other colonies adopted similar resolutions ; and when 
cargoes of British goods arrived, they were packed up in store- 
houses, and there left to rot, or, in some instances, reshipped and 
sent back to England. This occasioned great distress among the 
British manufacturers, who, thus losing their most profitable market, 
earnestly petitioned the ministers to repeal the duties which were 
ruining them. A change in the ministry at this crisis seemed to 



THE NON-IMPORTATION AGREEMENTS. 133 

favour the colonists and manufacturers. Lord North was placed 
at the head of affairs. He commenced his administration by 
obtaining the passage of a bill repealing all the American duties, 
except that on tea. This reservation was extremely odious to the 
American colonists, as it was a practical assertion of the right of 
parliament to impose internal taxes without their consent, the 
very right which they had so long opposed. Not ungrateful, 
however, for the removal of a part of the burden ; they so far 
relaxed their associations, as to allow the importation of all arti- 
cles except tea ; while they entered into a further agreement for 
the non-consumption of that commodity. 

The views of Colonel Washington on the subject of the non- 
importation agreements at this time were most distinct and deci- 
sive. They were stated at large in a letter dated 5th April, 1769, 
and addressed to George Mason, an intimate friend and neigh- 
bour. The letter was written after receiving the resolutions of 
the merchants of Philadelphia, in favour of the non-importation of 
articles of British manufacture ; which resolutions he had received 
from Dr. Ross, and then forwarded to Mr. Mason. 

"Herewith," he said, "you will receive a letter and sundry 
papers, which were forwarded to me a day or two ago, by Dr. 
Ross, of Bladensburg. I transmit them with the greater pleasure, 
as my own desire of knowing your sentiments upon a matter of 
this importance exactly coincides with the doctor's inclinations. 

"At a time when our lordly masters in Great Britain will be 
satisfied with nothing less than the deprivation of American free- 
dom, it seems highly necessary that something should be done to 
avert the stroke, and maintain the liberty which we have derived 
from our ancestors. But the manner of doing it, to answer the 
purpose effectually, is the point in question. 

"That no man should scruple, or hesitate a moment, to use 
arms in defence of so valuable a blessing, is clearly my opinion, 
yet arms, I would beg leave to add, should be the last resource, 
the dernier ressort. We have already, it is said, proved the ineffi- 
cacy of addresses to the throne, and remonstrances to parliament. 
How far, then, their attention to our rights and privileges is to be 
awakened or alarmed, by starving their trade and manufacturers, 
remains to be tried. 

"The northern colonies, it appears, are endeavouring to adopt 
this scheme. In my opinion it is a good one, and must be at- 
tended with salutary effects, provided it can be carried generally 
into execution. But to what extent it is practicable to do so, I 

M 



134 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

will not take upon me to determine. That there will be a diffi- 
culty attending the execution of it everywhere, from clashing inte- 
rests, and selfish, designing men, ever attentive to their own gain, 
and watchful of every turn that can assist their lucrative views, 
cannot be denied ; and in the tobacco colonies, where trade is so 
diffused, and in a manner wholly conducted by factors for their 
principals at home, [in England,] these difficulties are certainly 
enhanced, but I think not insurmountably increased, if the gentle- 
men in their several counties will be at some pains to explain 
matters to the people, and stimulate them to cordial agreements 
to purchase none but certain enumerated articles out of any of the 
stores after a definite period, and neither import nor purchase any 
themselves. 

"This, if it should not effectually withdraw the factors from 
their importations, would at least make them extremely cautious 
in doing it, as the prohibited goods could be vended to none but 
the non-associators, or those who would pay no regard to their 
association ; both of whom ought to be stigmatized, and made 
the objects of public reproach. 

"The more I consider a scheme of this sort, the more ardently 
I wish success to it, because I think there are private as well as 
public advantages to result from it ; the former, certain, however 
precarious the other may prove. In respect to the latter, I have 
always thought that by virtue of the same power, which assumes 
the right of taxation, the parliament may attempt at least to 
restrain our manufactures, especially those of a public nature, the 
same equity and justice prevailing in one case as in the other, it 
being no greater hardship to forbid my manufacturing, than it is 
to order me to buy goods loaded with duties, for the express pur- 
pose of raising a revenue. But as a measure of this sort would 
be an additional exertion of arbitrary powder, we cannot be placed 
in a worse condition, I think, by putting it to the test. 

"On the other hand, that the colonies are considerably indebted 
to Great Britain is a truth universally acknowledged. That many 
famiUes are reduced almost, if not quite, to penury and want by 
the low ebb of their fortunes, and that estates are daily selling for 
the discharge of debts, the public papers furnish too many melan- 
choly proofs. That a scheme of this sort will contribute more 
effectually than any other that can be desired to extricate the 
country from the distress it at present labours under, I most firmly 
Ijelieve, if it can be generally adopted. And I can see but one 
class of people, the merchants excepted, who will not, or ought 



THE NON-IMPORTATION AGREEMENTS. . 135 

not, to wish well to the scheme, namely, they who live genteelly 
and hospitably on clear estates. Such as these, were they not to 
consider the valuable object in view, and the good of others, 
might think it hard to be curtailed in their living and enjoyments. 
As to the permrious man, he would thereby save his money and 
his credit, having the best plea for doing that, which before, per- 
haps, he had the most violent struggles to refrain from doing. 
The extravagant and expensive man has the same good plea to 
retrench his expenses. He would be furnished with a good pre- 
text to live within bounds, and would embrace it. Prudence dic- 
tated economy before, but his resolution was too weak to put it 
in practice. ' For how can I,' says he, <who have lived in such 
and such a manner, change my method ? I am ashamed to do it, 
and, besides, such an alteration in the system of my living will 
create suspicions of the decay of my fortune, and such a thought 
the world must not harbour.' He continues his course, till at last 
his estate comes to an end, a sale of it being the consequence of 
his perseverance in error. This, I am satisfied, is the way that 
many, who have set out in the wrong track, have reasoned, till 
ruin has stared them in the face. And in respect to the needy 
man, he is only left in the same situation he was found in, better, 
I may say, because, as he judges from comparison, his condition 
is amended in proportion as it approaches nearer to those above 
him. 

"Upon the whole, therefore, I think the scheme a good one, 
and that it ought to be tried here, with such alterations as our 
circumstances render absolutely necessary. But in what manner 
to begin the work, is a matter worthy of consideration. Whether 
it can be attempted with propriety or efficacy, further than a com- 
munication of sentiments to one another before May, when the 
court and Assembly will meet at Williamsburg, and a uniform 
plan can be concerted, and sent to the different counties to operate 
at the same time, and in the same manner everywhere, is a thing 
upon which I am somewhat in doubt, and I should be glad to 
know your opinion." 

The reply of Mr. Mason to this letter of Colonel Washington 
may safely be regarded as an exposition of the feelings and inten- 
tions of the great mass of the colonists. 

"I entirely agree with you," he replies, "that no regular plan 
of the sort proposed can be entered into here, before the meeting 
of the general court at least, if not of the Assembly. In the mean 
time, it may be necessary to publish something preparatory to it in 



136 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

our gazettes, to warn our people of the impending danger, and 
to induce them the more readily and cheerfully to concur in the 
proper measures to avert it ; and something of this sort I had be- 
gun, but am unluckily stopped by a disorder which affects my head 
and eyes. As soon as I am able, I shall resume it, and then write 
you more fully, or endeavour to see you. In the mean time, pray 
commit to writing such hints as may occur. 

"Our all is at stake, and the little conveniences and comforts 
of life, when set in competition with our liberty, ought to be 
rejected, not with reluctance, but with pleasure. Yet it is plain, 
that in the tobacco colonies we cannot at present confine our im- 
portations within such narrow bounds as the northern colonies. 
A plan of this kind, to be practicable, must be adapted to our cir- 
cumstances, for if not steadily executed it had better have remained 
unattempted. We may retrench all manner of superfluities, finery 
of all descriptions, and confine ourselves to linens, woollens, &c., 
not exceeding a certain price. It is amazing how much this prac- 
tice, if adopted in all the colonies, would lessen the American 
imports, and distress the various traders and manufacturers in 
Great Britain. 

"This would awaken their attention. They would see, they 
would feel the oppressions we groan under, and exert themselves, to 
procure us redress. This once obtained, we should no longer dis- 
continue our importations, confining ourselves still not to import any 
articles that should hereafter be taxed by act of parliament for raising 
revenue in America ; for, however singular I may be in my opinion, 
I am thoroughly convinced, that, justice and harmony happily 
restored, it is not the interest of these colonies to refuse British 
manufactures. Our supplying our mother country with gross 
materials, and taking her manufactures in return, is the true chain 
of connection between us. These are the bands, which, if not 
broken by oppression, must long hold us together, by maintaining 
a constant reciprocation of interest. Proper caution should, there- 
fore, be used in drawing up the proposed plan of association. It 
may not be amiss to let the ministry understand, that, until we 
obtain a redress of grievances, we will withhold from them our 
commodities, and particularly refrain from making tobacco, by 
which the revenue would lose fifty times more than all their 
oppressions could raise here. 

"Had the hints which I have given with regard to taxation of 
goods imported into America, been thought of by our merchants 



THE NON-IMPORTATION AGREEMENT. 137 

before the repeal of the Stamp Act, the late American revenue acts 
would probably never have been attempted." 

Mr. Mason drew up a series of resolutions, otherwise called 
associations, or non-importation agreements, which he, not being 
a member of the Assembly, gave to Colonel Washington, who 
carried them with him to Williamsburg, whither he went in May, 
to attend to his duty as a member of the House of Burgesses. 
That body had been in session only a few days when they passed 
a series of strong resolutions, asserting their rights alone to impose 
taxes upon the people of the province of Virginia ; and declaring 
that it was the privilege of the inhabitants to request the other 
colonies to unite with them in petitioning the king for a redress 
of grievances. They also prepared a petition to the king, remon- 
strating in strong and feeling language against the execution of 
the old law, by which persons accused of any crime whatever 
might be seized, and sent to places beyond the seas to be tried. 

Lord Botetourt, the governor of Virginia, being informed of 
the proceedings of the house, immediately dissolved the Assembly. 
As soon as the burgesses left the public hall, they met at a private 
house, and choosing their late speaker, Peyton Randolph, mode- 
rator, adopted, with a slight modification, the agreement which 
had been drawn up by George Mason, and intrusted by him for 
presentation and support to Colonel Washington. These resolu- 
tions against the importation of any articles that were taxed by 
the parliament of Great Britain were signed by every member of 
the Assembly present, and then sent through the country for the 
signatures of the people. 

That Washington was sincere in the support of the principles 
which were now generally adopted by his countrymen, will be 
clearly seen from the following extract from a letter to his London 
correspondent, in sending out his customary orders : — "You will 
perceive, in looking over the several invoices, that some of the 
goods there required are upon condition that the act of parliament, 
imposing a duty on tea, paper, &c., for the purpose of raising a 
revenue in America, is totally repealed, and I beg the favour of you 
to be governed strictly thereby, as it will not be in my power to 
receive any articles contrary to our non-importation agreement, 
which I have subscribed, and shall religiously adhere to, and 
should, if it were as I could wish it to be, ten times as strict." 

Thus did Washington heartily join with the colonists in every 
measure of opposition to the encroachments of the British ministry 
from 1769, until, in 1773, more active and warlike proceedings 
18 m2 



138 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

were required by America from all her children. While engaged 
in the House of Burgesses in resisting the claim of Great Britain 
to tax the colonies at pleasure, and during the recesses of the 
Assembly, at his plough, he did not forget his old friends, the offi- 
cers and soldiers who had served with him in the French War. 
Governor Dinwiddle, as a reward for their services, had promised 
these men two hundred thousand acres of land on the Ohio. This 
claim was long opposed, first by the English ministry, and after- 
wards by the authorities of Virginia, and it was only by the un- 
wearied exertions of Washington, that the matter was finally, in 
1773 or 1774, adjusted. 

Washington even undertook a journey, in the autumn of the year 
1770, for the express purpose of selecting such tracts of land as 
would be most valuable to the future owners, when the govern- 
ment should think fit to fulfil its pledge to his fellow-soldiers. 
Some months afterwards, Lord Dunmore, then governor of the pro- 
vince, solicited his company in an excursion to the western country, 
and Washington began his preparations for once more visiting the 
scenes of his early renown. The death of Mrs. Washington's 
only daughter, however, prevented him from accompanying the 
governor. 

The crisis of the Revolution was now fast approaching. Already 
had blood been shed in the sacred cause of liberty. The two royal 
regiments stationed at Boston, had, from the first, been a source of 
constant annoyance to the inhabitants. Frequent quarrels arose be- 
tween them and the townsmen ; and at length, on the 5th of March, 
1770, an aflfray took place in which a party of soldiers fired upon their 
opponents, and four men were killed. The alarm-bells were imme- 
diately rung, a mob assembled, who became infuriated at the sight of 
the dead bodies, and far more serious mischief might have been the 
result, had not the lieutenant-governor assured them, that the law 
should be strictly enforced on the perpetrators of the offence. 
Accordingly, Captain Preston, -who had commanded, and several 
soldiers who had fired, were brought to trial ; on which occasion 
Mr. Quincy and Mr. Adams, two of the most zealous patriots, 
actuated by a sincere regard to justice, undertook the defence. 
The accused were honourably acquitted, it having been proved 
that the people first insulted the soldiers, and then commenced an 
attack, while the officer made every exertion to prevent the catastro- 
phe. Such urgent representations, however, were now made by 
the council and the citizens, that the commander agreed to remove 



GOVERNOR HUTCHINSON'S LETTER. 139 

the troops, quartering them in Castle William and in barracks 
erected near it. 

At this time public indignation was excited against Governor 
Hutchinson, and Oliver the lieutenant-governor of Massachusetts, 
in consequence of the publication of letters written by them to a 
secretary of the treasury in England. These letters, which had 
been transmitted to Boston by Dr. Franklin, contained a strong 
reprobation of the course pursued by the popular leaders, and 
recommendations that they should be put down at once, by co- 
ercive measures if necessary. Such was the public resentment 
excited by the publication of these letters, that the government 
chose rather to recall Hutchinson, and appoint General Gage as 
his successor, than run the risk of submitting to the fury of the 
populace.* 

* The following account of the affair of the letters is from the Pictorial History of 
England : — 

" Bpfore these proceedings, and even before the arrival of the intelligence of the tea 
riot, Dr. Franklin, the agent for the colony or house of representatives of Massachu- 
setts, had met with a severe castigation from the sharp tongue of a crown lawyer, for 
his conduct in the affair of the letters. That affair, moreover, had led to bloodshed in 
England, for a duel had been fought in Hyde Park, between Mr. Whately, banker in 
Lombard street, and brother to Mr. Thomas Whately, late secretary to the treasury, 
and member for Castle Rising, and Mr. (afterwards Sir) John Temple, lieutenant- 
governor of New Hampshire ; and the unfortunate banker had been dangerously 
wounded. Upon this event, which caused considerable excitement, Franklin wrote 
and published a letter, declaring that neither Mr. Whately nor the lieutenant-governor 
of New Hampshire had any thing to do with the mischievous letters, and that both of 
them were totally ig^rant and. innocGwt of that transaction. 'I think it incumbent 
on me,' wrote^^ranklin, ' to declare, for the prevention of further mischief, that I alone 
am the person who obtained and transmitted to Boston the letters in question. Mr. 
Whately could not communicate them, because they were never in his possession ; 
and, for the same reason, they could not have been taken from him by Mr. Temple. 
They were not of the nature oi private letters between friends; they were written by 
public officers to persons in public stations, on public affairs, and intended to procure 
public measures; they were, therefore, handed to other public persons, who might be 
influenced by them to produce those measures: their tendency was to incense the 
mother country against her colonieAand. by the steps recommended, to widen the 
breach, which they effected. The cmef caution expressed with regard to privacy was, 
to keep their contents from the colony agents, who, the writers apprehended, might 
return them, or copies of them, to America. That apprehension was, it seems, well 
founded ; for the first agent who laid his hands on them thought it his duty to trans- 
mit them to his constituents.' 
^ " This letter was signed ' B. Franklin, agent for the house of representatives of Mas- 
sachusetts Bay,' and was dated Craven street, December 25th, 1773. As a matter 
otmourse, it left in mystery the Means by which the philosopher had got possession of 
the letters. But the secret has^ince transpired. ' It is only within these seven years,' 
says the wiitcr of the History'of the American Revolution, published by the Society for 
the Diffusion of Useful Knowledge, in 1830, 'that it has been ascertained that Go- 
vernor Hutchinson's letters were put into Franklin's hands by a Dr. WiUiamson, who, 
without any suggestion on his part, had procured them by stratagem from the office 
where they had been deposited. This curious fact is stated, with many particulars, in 
a Memoir of Dr. Williamson, by Dr. Hosack of New York.' 

" On Saturday, the 29lh of January, Franklin, with Mr. Dunning as counsel to speak 



140 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

In the mean time, the other colonies were not undisturbed. In 
Rhode Island, the revenue schooner Gaspee was seized and burned 
with all her cargo. A special commission, appointed to inquire 
into the matter and try the offenders, found it impossible to pro- 
cure any evidence. We have already seen that the legislature of 
Virginia was alarmed by the rumor that the plan of transporting 
accused persons to Britain for trial was to be adopted. In March, 
1773, they appointed a standing committee of correspondence 
and inquiry, with instructions to communicate with the other 
colonies, a measure which met with their zealous co-operation. 

While the colonies were in this state, seemingly balancing 

to the Bostonian petition for the removal of the governor and lieutenant-governor, 
which petition was got np in consequence of the letters he had transmitted, appeared 
before the privy council, where thirty-five lords were assembled, besides those in office. 
Wedderburn, the solicitor-general, attended as counsel for the governor. Mr. Dunning 
having asked, on the part of his clients, the reason of being ordered to attend, and having 
spoken shortly on the general object of the petition, was replied to by Wedderburn, 
whose naturally sharp tongue was made sharper on this occasion by his friendship and 
sympathy for Mr. Whately, the banker, who was at that moment lying between life 
and death. After entering largely into the constitution and temper of the province of 
Massachusetts, he concluded with a most scurrilous invective against the double dealing 
and malice of Franklin. According to another great philosopher, (Priestley,) whose 
sympathy with Franklin and his cause was perfect, and whose affection for his native 
country had been nearly extinguished at the time he wrote, by a popular and brutal 
persecution — ' Mr. Wedderburn had a complete triumph : at the sallies of his sarcastic 
wit, all the members of the council, the president himself (Lord Gower) not excepted, 
frequently laughed outright ; and no person belonging to the council behaved with 
decent gravity, except Lord North, who came in late.' The Earl of Shelburne, who 
conveyed to Chatham an ample account of what passed, taxes Wedderburn with vio- 
lence and indecency of language ; but he does not mention that the members of the 
council misbehaved themselves so grossly. It was no laughing matter : Wedderburn 
was no buffoon, and his invective was calculated to arouse the violent passions, to pro- 
voke any thing rather than laughter. It concluded with this indignant burst of feel- 
ing: — 'Amidst tranquil events, here is a man who, with the utmost insensibility of 
remorse, stands up and avows himself the author of all. I can compare him only to 
Zanga, in Dr. Young's Revenge: — 

'' Know, then, 'twas I. 

I forged the letter— I dispoaja the picture— 
I hated — I despis'd — and I destroy!" 

I ask, my lords, whether the revengeful temper attributed to the bloody African is not 
surpassecl by the coolness and apathy of the wily American V Whatever may have 
been the effect upon the members of the council, the invective sunk deep into the soul 
of Franklin. It is said that he controlled his feelings in that presence, standing in a 
corner of the room without the least apparent emotion ; but it is added, that, when he 
got back to his lodgings, he took off the suit of clothes he had worn, and vowed he * 
would never wear it again until he should sign the degradation of England and the 
independence of America. On the following morning he is said to have told a friend 
who breakfasted with him, that he had never before been so sensible of the power of a 
good conscience ; that he had been accused of clandestinely procuring the letters, and 
sending them to America with a view to excite animosities and embroil the two coun- 
tries; but that, in fact, he did not even know that such letters existed, till they were 
brought to him as agent of the colony, in order to be sent to his constituents. He 
never would name the person from whom he got the letters, but said, some time after, 
that he had received them from a gentleman that was since dead." 



THE TEA DUTY. 141 

between patriotism and right on the one hand, and loyalty and 
submission on the other, a new scheme entered the mind of 
Lord North, as if to hasten on the great catastrophe by which 
Britain was in a few years to be deprived of the brightest gems 
in her diadem. In consequence of the pertinacious and suc- 
cessful exclusion of tea from the American colonies, that article 
had accumulated in the warehouses of the East India Company. 
It was accordingly proposed that the British duty of a shilling 
a pound should be drawn back on the importation of the article 
into America, where a duty of only three pence was to be im- 
posed. The colonists, who would thus procure it cheaper than 
the English, might, it was thought, be gently manoeuvred out 
of the principle for which they so obstinately contended. It 
was almost madness to renew in any shape a contest in which 
the government had been so repeatedly w'orsted ; though this 
was really a small measure to issue in a vast rebellion, — a 
slender spark to kindle such a mighty conflagration. We must 
also again reproach the parliamentary friends of America, that 
they sounded no note of alarm, and this momentous vote passed 
in the usual silent and unregarded manner. 

The intelligence, when it reached the colonies, strongly roused 
the determination of the popular leaders. They were sensible, as 
is admitted by all their advocates, that if the tea were once landed 
and offered for sale at the cheap rate which these arrangements 
allowed, nothing could prevent its being bought and consumed ; a 
circumstance which by no means indicates a very fervid zeal 
among the mass of the people. Large vessels, however, were 
already crossing the Atlantic, laden with this commodity, the intro- 
duction of which, on so extensive a scale, would completely break 
up their grand principle of non-taxation. They therefore deter- 
mined to exert their utmost efforts to prevent the landing ; and 
possessing a paramount influence in the mercantile ports, extorted 
a promise from the consigners to refuse it, and thus oblige the 
vessels to carry back their lading. Unfortunately, the agents at 
Boston rejected this demand, and appealed to the governor, who 
promised protection ; but a mob was qiiickly collected, their 
houses were broken into, and themselves compelled to take refuge 
in Castle William. On the other hand, the governor and custom- 
house officers even refused to permit the vessels which had arrived 
to depart without landing the tea. A general meeting of the 
inhabitants was then called, when resolutions were entered into to 
oppose the landing of the tea ; and a guard was appointed, who 



142 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

watched night and day to prevent any portion of the cargo from 
being sent ashore. Some time after, another great assemblage 
met at Faneuil Hall, where one party recommended moderate 
measures ; but the majority discovered a violent spirit, and some 
undoubtedly desired to urge on steps which might issue in a total 
rupture. Mr. Quincy warned them, that a spirit was now neces- 
sary, different from any hitherto displayed ; they were advancing 
to « measures which must bring on the most trying and terrible 
struggle this country ever saw." The captain of one of the tea-ships, 
who now sought to extricate himself from the affair,. was allowed to 
make a last application to the governor for permission to depart ; 
but having returned and reported a refusal, the meeting separated. 
Immediately after, the harbour was thronged by a vast multitude, 
seventeen of whom, disguised as Mohawk Indians, went on board 
the ships, took full possession of them, and deliberately emptied 
the whole of their cargoes into the sea. 

This daring outrage hurried affairs to a crisis. On the intelli- 
gence arriving in England, the determination was immediately 
formed to proceed to extreme measures. These were not akin to 
Lord North's disposition ; but he was probably goaded on by 
others, reproached for his previous concessions, and keenly sen- 
sible to this total failure of his own favourite scheme. Now, 
he said, was our time to stand out, to defy them, to proceed with 
firmness, and without fear. Boston was the centre whence all the 
present disorders emanated. It had been the ringleader in every 
riot, and set always the example which others only followed. To 
inflict a signal penalty on this city would be to strike at the root 
of the evil. He quoted several instances, as the murder of Dr. 
Lamb in London, under Charles II., and the execution of Captain 
Porteous by the Edinburgh mob, in which a whole city had been 
punished for an offence committed by a large body of its inhabit- 
ants. It was proposed, therefore, that the port of Boston should 
be closed, and no goods allowed to be either shipped or landed. 
This interdict was to continue, till the citizens should express a 
due sense of their error, and make full compensation to the company ; 
when the crown, if it should see sufficient reason, might restore 
its lost privileges. This motion, so big with war and disaster, 
when made to the House of Commons, met with such eager con- 
currence, that the very few who attempted opposition could not 
without extreme difficulty obtain a hearing. Alderman Sawbridge 
was obliged to tell them that though he could not speak long, he 
could sit long. Even Colonel Barre, the standing advocate of 



THE BOSTON PORT BILL. 143 

America, said he approved of this measure for its moderation. 
Some zealous supporters of authority indulged the most imprudent 
violence in invective against the Americans. Mr. Herbert de- 
scribed them as a strange set of people, from whom it was in vain 
to expect any degree of reasoning ; they always chose taning and 
feathering. Mr. Montague, second son of Lord Sandwich, attri- 
buted their boldness to the tame councils, the weak and unmanly 
character of ministers, who allowed themselves to be swayed by a 
faction seeking popularity by clamour, and composed of "the 
vilest excrement of the earth." Mr. Van drew still greater atten- 
tion, by declaring that the port ought to be knocked about their 
ears and destroyed, adding the quotation, " delenda est Car- 
thago. ^^ 

The second reading passed without a division ; but a petition 
was then presented by the lord mayor, from a number of American 
settlers resident in London. It urged that the citizens of Boston 
had not been heard in their own defence, nor redress sought at 
common law. The place was not walled, nor held by any executive 
power, and the offence had not even been committed within its 
limits. They proceeded in very bold language to observe that 
the attachment of their countrymen could not survive the justice 
of Great Britain, a violation of which might extinguish the filial 
sentiments hitherto cherished. Some opposition was now mus- 
tered, Mr. Fuller proposing merely the imposition of a fine. Mr. 
Burke began that series of splendid orations, which he devoted to 
the cause of American liberty. He denounced this confounding 
of the innocent and the guilty, and expressed his heartfelt sorrow 
at the general aspect of affairs ; the universal resistance of all 
America ; one town in proscription, the rest in rebellion ; not a 
port on its coast where goods could be landed and vended. The 
consequences would be dreadful, nay, he was afraid, destructive ; 
and he gave the prophetic warning, that ministers would draw 
upon themselves a foreign enemy at a time they little expected. 
Two former governors, Johnstone and Pownall, expressed them- 
selves earnestly in favour of the Americans ; the former declaring 
he had advised the company against sending the tea, and was sure 
the affair would issue in rebellion. The latter excited the laughter 
of the house, by extolling the people for their love of order and 
peace. But it is remarkable, that none of their advocates now 
disputed the right of taxation. Mr. Dowdeswell referred to a time 
when this had been doubted by persons of great knowledge ; now 
there was no such opinion ; the policy only was questioned. It 



144 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

is remarkable that Mr. Fox, on this occasion, made his first appear- 
ance in parliamentary life, by objecting to the power vested in the 
crown of re-opening the port; a suggestion which was not sup- 
ported by either party. 

The bill passed without a division. In the House of Lords, 
however, it encountered a stronger opposition from certain noble- 
men of eminence and talent, particularly Rockingham, Shelburne, 
and Richmond ; but the debates have not been preserved, and it 
passed finally without any protest. 

General Gage, the governor, was directed to transfer his resi- 
dence to Salem, along with the custom-house, and all the courts 
which were by law removable. But he arrived at a most inaus- 
picious moment ; the Boston port bill having just preceded him. 
He was received with the ordinary marks of respect, while, at the 
same time, a hope was expressed, that his government might pre- 
sent a contrast to that of his predecessor. 

The day after the arrival of the new governor, a town meeting 
was called to deliberate on the tenor of the Boston port bill, at 
which resolutions were passed, recommending the immediate 
renunciation of all commercial intercourse with Britain and the 
West Indies until the repeal of the act. "The impolicy, injustice, 
inhumanity, and cruelty of this act," they declared, '< exceed all 
our powers of expression. We therefore leave it to the just censure 
of others, and appeal to God and the world." Mr. Quincy pub- 
lished a paper, in which he said: <<A whole people are accused, 
prosecuted by they know not whom, tried they know not where, 
proved guilty, they know not how, and sentenced to suflfer inevit- 
able ruin." Reports of this meeting, together with copies of the 
new act, were immediately sent to all the provincial Assemblies. 

A feeling of indignation at the conduct of the government, and 
sympathy with the people of Boston, spread with incredible rapidity 
throughout the continent. The legislative Assembly of Virginia 
was in session when the intelligence of the Boston port bill reached 
that province. They immediately appointed the first of June, the 
day on wliich the operation of the bill was to commence, to be set 
apart as a day of fasting, humiliation and prayer, in order "devoutly 
to implore the divine interposition to avert the heavy calamity which 
threatened destruction to their civil rights, and the evils of a civil 
war; and to give them one heart and one mind firmly to oppose, by 
all just and proper means, every injury to American rights." When 
Lord Dunmore, who had been recently appointed to supersede the 
popular Lord Botetourt as governor of Virginia, heard of this pro- 



OPINIONS OF WASHINGTON. 145 

ceeding, he immediately dissolved the Assembly ; but before their 
separation, eighty-nine of the members signed a declaration, in 
which they declared that << an attack made upon one of our sister 
colonies to compel submission to arbitrary taxes is an attack made 
upon all British America, and threatens ruin to the rights of all, 
unless the united wisdom of the whole be applied." They also 
instructed the committee of correspondence to propose to similar 
committees in the other colonies the appointment of delegates to a 
general congress, to meet annually, in order to watch over the 
general interests of the w^hole people. 

The opinions of Colonel Washington, if further proof of them 
than the proceedings of a public body of which he was a member 
be required, may be learned from a letter written at the time to 
Bryan Fairfax, who was strongly opposed to violent measures, 
and anxious that time should be given for the repeal of the obnox- 
ious acts. In the course of the letter, Washington writes : 

"As to your political sentiments, I would heartily join you in 
them, so far as relates to an humble and dutiful petition to the throne, 
provided there was the most distant hope of success. But have we 
not tried this already ? Have we not addressed the Lords, and 
remonstrated to the Commons ? And to what end ? Did they 
deign to look at our petitions ? Does it not appear as clear as the 
sun in its meridian brightness, that there is a regular, systematic 
plan formed to fix the right and practice of taxation upon us ? Does 
not the uniform conduct of parliament for some years past confirm 
this? Do not all the debates, especially those just brought to us, 
in the House of Commons, on the side of government, expressly 
declare that America must be taxed in aid of the British funds, and 
that she has no longer resources wnthin herself? Is there anything 
to be expected from petitioning after this ? Is not the attack upon 
the liberty and property of the people of Boston, before restitution 
of the loss to the India Company was demanded, a plain and self- 
evident proof of what they are aiming at ? Do not the subsequent 
bills (now I dare say acts) for depriving the Massachusetts Bay of 
its charter, and for transporting offenders into other colonies or to 
Great Britain for trial, wliere it is impossible from the nature of the 
thing that justice can be obtained, convince us that the administra- 
tion is determined to stick at nothing to carry its point? Ought we 
not, then, to put our virtue and fortitude to the severest test ? 

"With you I think it a folly to attempt more than we can execute, 
as that will not only bring disgrace upon us, but weaken our cause ; 
yet I think we may do more than is generally believed, in respect 
19 N 



146 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

to the non-importation scheme. As to the withholding of our remit- 
tances, that is another point, in which I own I have ray doubts on 
several accounts, but principally on that of justice ; for I think, 
while we are accusing otliers of injustice, we should be just our- 
selves ; and how this can be, whilst we owe a considerable debt, 
and refuse payment of it to Great Britain, is to me inconceivable. 
Nothing but the last extremity, I think, can justify it. Whether 
this is now Come is the question." 

The conjectures expressed in this letter were speedily reahzed. 
An act soon arrived, by which the charter of the province of Mas- 
sachusetts Bay was nullified, and the appointment of all magistrates 
and officers of every kind vested in the crown. This act was 
speedily followed by another, professing to secure the impartial 
administration of justice m ihe province, which provided, "That 
in case any person should be indicted in that province for murder, 
or any other capital offi.'nce, and it should appear by information 
given on oath to the governor that the fact was committed in the 
exercise and aid of magistracy in suppressing riots, and that a fair 
trial could not be had in the province, he should send the person so 
indicted to any other colony, or to Great Britain to be tried." 

In the mean time the General Assembly of Massachusetts met 
on the 31st of May, and were immediately adjourned by the 
governor to meet at Salem on the 7th of June. Having there 
organized, they proceeded to revive a project formerly proposed 
by them and lately suggested by the legislature of Virginia. They 
accordingly declared a general congress of delegates from all the 
provinces to be highly expedient, and necessary to concert mea- 
sures for the recovery of the just rights and liberties of Americans, 
and "for the restoration of that union and harmony between Great 
Britain and the colonies, most ardently desired by all good men." 
In order to carry out this resolution, a committee of five of the 
most distinguished patriots of Massachusetts was elected to meet 
the delegates which might be sent from the other colonies, at 
Philadelphia, in the month of September. Apprised of their pro- 
ceedings, General Gage sent his secretary to dissolve the Assembly ; 
l)ut they kept the door of the room, in which they met, locked until 
these measures were completed. 

The effect of the tyranical acts of the British parliament upon 
the town of Boston, was most calamitous. Silent streets, deserted 
arsenals, closed warehouses, unemployed workmen and starving 
families, testified that the spirit of commercial industry had taken 
its departure. At the same time, the sympathy of their fellow- 



ARBITRARY PROCEEDINGS IN BOSTON. 147 

countrymen contributed materially to mitigate their sufferings, and 
evinced itself in acts of disinterested patriotism, of which old 
Rome would have been proud. The Boston port bill, instead of 
fomenting jealousy and disunion within the province, as had 
been wished and expected by its originators, produced only a 
closer union and greater firmness of purpose among the inhabit- 
ants. The people of Marblehead offered the use of their harbour 
to the Boston merchants, together with free store-room in their 
stores and warehouses, as well as their personal services in lading 
and unlading goods. The people of Salem, which, by the removal 
of the seat of government, became the capital of the province, in a 
memorial presented at the dissolution of the last Assembly, ad- 
dressed the governor in the following highly honourable and 
patriotic strain : — 

"We are deeply afflicted with the sense of our public calamities; 
but the miseries that are now rapidly hastening on our brethren 
in the capital of the province greatly excite our commiseration ; 
and we hope your excellency will use your endeavours to prevent 
a further accumulation of evils on that already sorely distressed 

people." "By shutting up the port of Boston some imagine 

that the course of trade might be turned hither, and to our benefit ; 
but nature, in the formation of our harbour, forbids our becoming 
rivals in commerce with that ancient mart ; and, were it other- 
wise, we must be dead to every idea of justice, and lost to all feelings 
of humanity, could we indulge in one thought to seize on wealth, 
and raise our fortunes on the ruin of our suffering neighbours." 

The ancient privilege of holding town-meetings was next 
attacked, and the governor issued his proclamation, prohibiting, in 
obedience to act of parliament, the calling of town-meetings after 
the 1st of August. As soon as this proclamation was issued, an 
assembly of this kind was called, which adjourned till after the 
day mentioned, and then met. The governor ordered them to dis- 
perse, but he was told that the holding of the meeting was no vio- . 
lation of the act of parliament, which only forbade the calling of 
town-meetings ; and that no such call had been made, a legal 
meeting, held before the 1st of August, having since adjourned 
themselves from time to time. At one of these adjourned meetings, 
"a solemn league and covenant" was adopted by which the sign- 
ers of the paper bound themselves "to suspend all commercial 
intercourse with Great Britain until the late obnoxious laws were 
repealed, and the colony of Massachusetts restored to its chartered 
rights." 



148 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

The governor next attempted to form the government under the 
new constitution ; but he could find none to act as jurors under 
the direction of judges appointed by the crown, and very few to 
accept the offices now in the gift of the king. Finding himself 
thus involved in difficulties, which daily assumed a more threat- 
ening aspect, he began to fortify Boston Neck, and increase the 
garrison, and he soon had such a force at his command, and was 
so well entrenched as to commence aggressive and coercive mea- 
sures. 

In the midst of the gathering storm, when black clouds seemed 
to be fast hiding the heavens, the solemnity of the crisis, and the 
responsibilities imposed by it were felt by none more than by 
George Washington. On the 18th of July, 1774, he presided at a 
general meeting of the freeholders and inhabitants of the County 
of Fairfax, at which a series of resolutions were passed, which 
may be considered as imbodying his sentiments at the commence- 
ment of the revolutionary contest, as well as the predominant 
opinions of the province of Virginia. They are chiefly expressive 
of a determined denial of the right claimed by Great Britain to 
tax the American colonies, of determination to suspend all com- 
mercial intercourse with England until the claim should be aban- 
doned, and with all parties in America who should refuse to enter 
into a similar agreement. They contain a luminous statement of 
the constitutional rights of America, and many earnest exhortations 
to the use of those expedients which should enable the colonies 
to dispense with the commerce of England, and to consolidate 
their strength by union. It is remarkable that one of these resolu- 
tions condemns the importation of slaves as "a wicked, cruel, and 
unnatural trade." George Washington and Charles Broadwater 
were chosen by this meeting to represent the county of Fairfax at 
the convention which was called to meet at Williamsburg on the 
1st day of August. 

The Virginia convention appointed Peyton Randolph, Richard 
Henry Lee, George Washington, Patrick Henry, Richard Bland, 
Benjamin Harrison, and Edmund Pendleton, to meet the delegates 
from the other colonies, which were to assemble at Philadelphia 
in September. In a session of six days, the convention gave 
instructions to these deputies, and adopted a series of resolutions, . 
which they called an association, similar in tenor and temper to 
those adopted two weeks before in Fairfax county. 

Before noticing the acts of the first continental Congress, it 
may be important to understand the precise state of Washington's 



WASHINGTON'S CORRESPONDENCE. 149 

mind respecting the dispute between the two countries. This is 
important for two reasons ; first, because the sentiments of Wasli- 
ington may be considered as a fair exponent of those of his coun- 
trymen at large ; and next, because these sentiments have been 
much misunderstood, in consequence of the circulation of a series 
of spurious letters bearing his name, and tending to show that he 
did not enter heartily into the defence of the cause of his country. 
The statements of these letters were believed by many. They even 
crept into history, and were, a little before the close of his life, 
revived against him by his political opponents. 

The utter falsehood of these representations will best be shown 
by three of his letters written about this time. The first was 
addressed to Bryan, afterwards Lord Fairfax, dated July 20, 1774, 
and contains the following passages. 

"That I differ very widely from you in respect to the mode of 
obtaining a repeal of the acts so much and so justly complained 
of, I shall not hesitate to acknowledge ; and that this diflTerence in 
opinion probably proceeds from the different constructions we put 
upon the conduct and intention of the ministry, may also be true ; 
but as I see nothing, on the one hand, to induce a belief that the 
parliament would embrace a favourable opportunity of repealing 
acts, which they go on with great rapidity to pass, in order to 
enforce their tyrannical system ; and, on the other, I observe, or 
think I observe, that government is pursuing a regular plan at the 
expense of law and justice to overthrow our constitutional rights 
and liberties, how can I expect any redress from a measure which 
has been ineffectually tried already ? For, sir, what is it we are 
contending against ? Is it against paying the duty of three pence 
per pound on tea because burdensome ? No, it is the right only 
that we have all along disputed ; and to this end we have already 
petitioned his majesty in as humble and dutiful a manner as sub- 
jects could do. Nay, more, we apphed to the House of Lords 
and House of Commons in their different legislative capacities, 
setting forth, that, as Englishmen, we could not be deprived of 
this essential and valuable part of our constitution. If, then, as 
the fact really is, it is against the right of taxation that we now 
do, and, as I before said, all along have contended, why shoulil 
they suppose an exertion of this power would be less obnoxious 
now than formerly ? And what reason have we to believe that 
they would make a second attempt, whilst the same sentiments 
fill the breast of every American, if they did not intend to enforce 
it if possible ? 

n2 



150 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

"The conduct of the Boston people could not justify the rigour 
of their measures, unless there had been a requisition of payment 
and refusal of it ; nor did that conduct require an act to deprive 
the government of Massachusetts Bay of their charter, or to ex- 
empt ofleuders from trial in the places where offences were com- 
mitted, as there was not, nor could there be, a single instance 
produced to manifest the necessity of it. Are not all these things 
evident proofs of a fixed and uniform plan to tax us ? If we want 
further proofs, do not all the debates in the House of Commons 
serve to confirm this? And has not General Gage's, conduct, since 
his arrival, in stopping the address of his council, and publishing 
a proclamation more becoming a Turkish bashaw than an English 
governor, declaring it treason to associate in any manner by which 
the commerce of Great Britain is to be affected, has not this exhi- 
bited an unexampled testimony of the most despotic system of 
tyranny that ever was practised in a free government ? In short, 
what further proofs are wanting to satisfy any one of the designs 
of the ministry than their own acts, which are uniform and plainly 
tending to the same point, nay, if I mistake not, avowedly to fix 
the right of taxation ? What hope have we then from petitioning, 
when they tell us that now or never is the time to fix the matter ? 
Shall we, after this, whine and cry for relief, when we have already 
tried it in vain ? Or shall we supinely sit and see one province 
after another fall a sacrifice to despotism ? 

"If I were in any doubt, as to the right which the parliament 
of Great Britain had to tax us ■wdthout our consent, I should most 
heartily coincide with you in opinion, that to petition, and to peti- 
tion only, is the proper method to apply for relief; because we 
should then be asking a favour, and not claiming a right, which, 
by the law of nature, and by our constitution, we are, in my 
opinion, indubitably entitled to. I should even think it criminal 
to go further than this, under such an idea; but I have none such. 
I think the parUament of Great Britain have no more right to put 
their hands into my pocket without my consent, than I have to put 
my hands into yours ; and this being already urged to them in a 
firm but decent manner, by all the colonies, what reason is there 
to expect any thing from their justice ? 

« As to the resolution for addressing the throne, I own to you, 
sir, I think the whole might have been expunged. I expect nothing 
from the measure, nor should my voice have sanctioned it, if the 
non-importation scheme Wcis intended to be retarded by it ; for I 
am convinced, as much as I am of my existence, that there is no 



wasii[N(;ton's c()F(ri':si»ondknck. ir,i 

relief for us but, in llicir distresH ; ji,ri(J I liiiiik, ;if, l«'ast I hope, that 
there is public virtue enouf^h left Jimong us to deny ourwelves every 
th'iufr but. ibc bar<; necessaries of life to accomplish Ibis end. This 
we have a ri|^bt to do, and no [)ower up(jn earth can compel us to 
do otherwise, till it has first reduced us to the most abject state 
of slavery. The stopping of our (;x[)orts would, no doubt, be a 
shorter method than the olher to efli-ct this j)iirj)Ose; but if we owe 
money to Great Britain, nothing but the last necessity can justify 
the non-payment of it ; and, therefore, I have great doubts upon 
this head, and wish to see the other method first tried, which is 
legal, uiui will facilitate these payments. 

<<1 cannot conclude without expressing some concern that I 
should differ so widely in sentiment from you, on a matter of such 
great moment and general import ; and I shoidd much distriist 
my own judgment upon the occasion, if my nature did not recoil 
at the thought of submitting to measures, which I think subversive 
of every thing that I oiight to hold dr-ar and valuable, and did I not 
find, at the same titne, that the voir;e of (nankirid is with me." 

The second letter was addressed to ihi; satne gentleman, about 
a week before he left Mount Vf-rnon to attend the first meeting of 
Congress. It is dated Mount Vernon, 24th August, 1774, and is 
as follows : — 

<<I)i;AaSiu — Your letter of the 5fh instant came to this place, 
forwarded by Mr. Ramsey, a few days after my return from Wil- 
liamsburg, and I delayed acknowledging it sooner, in the hope 
that I should find time, befort; I began my journey tf) Philadelphia, 
to answer it fully, if not satisfactorily ; but as much oi' my time 
has been engrossed since I came home, by r;ompany, by your bro- 
ther's sale and the business conseijiient thereupon, in writing let- 
ters to England, and now in attending to rny own domestic affairs 
previous to my departure, I find it impossible to bestow as much 
attention on the subject of your letter as I could wi.sh, and, there- 
fore, I must rely upon your good nature and candour in excuse 
for not attempting it. In truth, persuaded, as I am, that you have- 
read all the jjolitical pie(;es which cornjjose a large share of the 
gazettes at this time, I should think it, bul for your request, a 
piece of inexcusable arrrjgance in me, to makf! the least essay 
towards a change in your political opinions; for 1 am sure I have 
no new light to throw upon the subject, nor any other arguments 
to offer in su[>port of my own doctrine, than what you have seen ; 
and I could only in general add, that an innate spirit of freedom 
first told me, that the measures which the administration have for 



152 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

some time been, and now are most violently pursuing, are opposed 
to every principle of natural justice ; whilst much abler heads 
than my own have fully convinced me, that they are not only 
repugnant to natural right, but subversive of the laws and consti- 
tution of Great Britain itself, in the establishment of which some 
of the best blood in the kingdom has been spilt. 

"Satisfied, then, that the acts of the British parliament are no 
longer governed by the principles of justice, that they are tramp- 
ling upon the valuable rights of Americans, confirmed to them by 
charter, and by the constitution they themselves boast of, and con- 
vinced, beyond the smallest doubt, that these measures are the 
result of deliberation, and attempted to be carried into execution 
by the hand of power, is it a time to trifle, or risk our cause upon 
petitions, which with difficulty obtain access, and afterwards are 
thrown by with the utmost contempt? Or should we, because 
heretofore unsuspicious of design, and then unwilling to enter into 
disputes with the mother country, go on to bear more, and forbear 
to enumerate our just causes of complaint ? For my own part, I 
shall not undertake to say where the line between Great Britain 
and the colonies should be drawn ; but I am clearly of opinion, 
that one ought to be drawn, and our rights clearly ascertained. 
I could wish, I own, that the dispute had been left to posterity to 
determine ; but the crisis is arrived when we must assert our 
rights, or submit to every imposition that can be heaped upon us, 
till custom and use shall make us tame and abject slaves. 

"I intended to write no more than an apology for not writing; 
but I find I am insensibly running into a length I did not expect, 
and therefore shall conclude with remarking, that, if you disavow 
the right of parliament to tax us, unrepresented as we are, we 
only differ in respect to the mode of opposition, and this difTerence 
princi{)ally arises from your belief, that they (the parliament I 
mean) want a decent opportunity to repeal the acts ; whilst I am 
fully convinced, that tliere has been a regular, systematic plan 
formed to enforce them, and that nothing but unanimity and firm- 
ness in tlie colonies, which they did not expect, can prevent it. 
By the best advices from Boston it seems that General Gage is 
exceedingly disconcerted at the quiet and steady conduct of the 
people of the Massachusetts Bay, and at the measures pursuing by 
the other governments. I dare say he expected to force those 
oppressed people into compliance, or irritate them to acts of vio- 
lence before this, for a more colourable pretence of ruling that and 
the other colonies with a high hand. 



WASHINGTON'S CORRESPONDENCE. 153 

"I shall set off on Wednesday next for Philadelphia, where, if 
you have any commands, I shall be glad to oblige you in them ; 
being, dear sir, with real regard, 

Your most obedient servant." 

The third letter was addressed to Captain Robert Mackenzie, 
formerly a captain in the Virginia regiment, in answer to one 
received from him. He was then an officer in the forty-third regi- 
ment of foot, of the regular British army stationed at Boston. The 
following extract from his letter to Washington called forth the reply 
which is given below. 

"Mr. Atcheson can sufficiently inform you of the state of this 
unhappy province, of their tyrannical oppression over one another, 
of their fixed aim at total independence, of the weakness and tem- 
per of the mainsprings that set the whole in motion, and how 
necessary it is, that abler heads and better hearts should draw a 
line for their guidance. Even when this is done, it is much to be 
feared that they will follow it no further than it coincides with 
their present sentiments. Amidst all these jarrings we have until 
lately lived in a camp of pleasure ; but the rebellious and nume- 
rous meetings of men in arms, their scandalous and ungenerous 
attacks upon the best characters in the province, obliging them to 
save themselves by flight, and their repeated, but feeble threats to 
dispossess the troops, have furnished sufficient reasons to General 
Gage to put the town in a formidable state of defence, about w'hich 
we are now fully employed, and which will be shortly accom- 
plished to their great mortification." 

Colonel Washington, who was then at Philadelphia, attending 
the first Congress, answered as follows, under date of the 9th Oc- 
tober, 1774. 

"Dear Sir — Your letter of the 13th ultimo, from Boston, gave 
me pleasure, as I learnt thereby, that you are well, and might be 
expected at Mount Vernon in your way to or from James River, 
in the course of the winter. 

"When I have said this, permit me, with the freedom of a friend, 
(for you know I always esteemed you,) to express my sorrow, that 
fortune should place you in a service that must fix curses to the 
latest posterity on the contrivers, and if success (which, by-the-by, 
is impossible) accompanies it, execrations upon all those who have 
been instrumental in their execution. 

"I do not mean by this to insinuate, that an officer is not to 
discharge his duty, even when chance, not choice, has placed him 
in a disagreeable situation ; but I conceive, when you condemn 
20 



154 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

the conduct of the Massachusetts people, you reason from effects, 
not from causes ; otherwise you would not wonder at a people 
who are every day receiving fresh proofs of a systematic assertion 
of an arbitrary power, deeply planned to overturn the laws and 
constitution of their country, and to violate the most essential and 
valuable rights of mankind, being irritated, and with difficulty 
restrained from acts of the greatest violence and intemperance. 
For my own part, I confess to you candidly, that I view things in 
a very different point of light from the one in which you seem to 
consider them, and though you are led to believe by venal men, — 
for such I must take the liberty of calling those new-fangled coun- 
sellors who fly to, and surround you, and all others, who, for 
honours or pecuniary gratifications, will lend their aid to over- 
turn the constitution, and introduce a system of arbitrary govern- 
ment, — although you are taught, I say, by discoursing with such 
men, to believe that the people of Massachusetts are rebellious, 
setting up for independency, and what not,^ — give me leave, my 
good friend, to tell you that you are abused, grossly abused. 
This I advance with a degree of confidence and boldness which 
may claim your belief, having better opportunities of knowing the 
real sentiments of the people you are among, from the leaders of 
them in opposition to the present measures of the administration, 
than you have from those whose business it is not to disclose 
truths, but to misrepresent facts, in order to justify, as much as 
possible, to the world their own conduct. Give me leave to add, 
and I think I can announce it as a fact, that it is not the wish or 
interest of that government, or any other upon this continent, sepa- 
rately or collectively, to set up for independence ; but this you may 
at the same time rely on, that none of them will ever submit to the 
loss of those valuable rights and privileges which are essential to 
the happiness of every free state, and without which, life, Hberty, 
and property are rendered totally insecure. 

"These, sir, being certain consequences, which must naturally 
result from the late acts of parliament relative to America in general, 
and the government of Massachusetts Bay in particular, is it to be 
wondered at, I repeat, that men who wish to avert the impending 
blow, should attempt to oppose it in its progress, or prepare for 
their defence, if it cannot be averted ? Surely, I may be allowed 
to answer in the negative; and again, give me leave to add as my 
opinion, that more blood will be spilled on this occasion, if the 
ministry are determined to push matters to extremity, than history 
ever yet furnished instances of in the annals of North America ; 



THE QUESTION OF INDEPENDENCE. 155 

and such a vital wound will be given to the peace of this great 
country, as time itself cannot cure, or eradicate the remembrance of. 

"But I have done. I was involuntarily led into a short discussion 
of this subject, by your remarks on the conduct of the Boston peo- 
ple, and your opinion of their wishes to set up for independency. 
I am well satisfied that no such thing is desired by any thinking 
man in all North America. On the contrary, that it is the ardent 
wish of the warmest advocates for liberty, that peace and tran- 
quillity upon constitutional grounds may be restored, and the hor- 
rors of civil discord prevented." 

The language of Washington in this last letter, respecting the 
ulterior designs of his countrymen, naturally leads us to inquire 
what were the predominant sentiments of the American statesmen 
on this point. More especially is it important to ascertain the views 
with which the first congress assembled ; whether they regarded 
themselves as an independent parliament, or whether they simply 
designed to consult for the interest of their constituents, subject to 
the legislative control of the parent government. Upon this sub- 
ject, the industrious and untiring editor of Washington's writings 
has bestowed a singular degree of research, which has brought to 
light some very interesting details regarding the notions of the 
American patriots, and the country at large, upon the subject of 
independence. 

"It is not easy to determine," says this accomplished author,* 
"at what precise date the idea of independence was first enter- 
tained by the principal persons in America. English writers, argu- 
ing from the conduct of the colonists, have commonly charged 
them with secretly harbouring such designs at a very early period. 
This is not probable. The spirit and form of their institutions, it 
is true, led them to act frequently as an independent people, and 
to set up high claims in regard to their rights and privileges, but 
there is no sufficient evidence to prove, that any province, or any 
number of prominent individuals, entertained serious thoughts of 
separating entirely from the mother country, till very near the actual 
commencement of the war of the revolution. 

"Gordon relates the following anecdote of a conversation, said to 
have taken place in the year 1759, between Mr. Pratt, afterwards 
Lord Camden, and Dr. Franklin, but he cites no authority. <For 
all what you Americans say of your loyalty,' observed Mr. Pratt, 
'I know you will one day throw off your dependence upon this 
country ; and, notwithstanding your boasted affection to it, will 
* Appendix to Sparks's Writings of Washington, vol. ii. p. 496. 



156 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

set up for independence.^ Franklin answered, 'No such idea is 
entertained in the mind of the Americans ; and no such idea will 
will ever enter their heads, unless you grossly abuse them.' 
'Very true,' repUed Mr. Pratt, 'that is one of the main causes I 
see will happen, and will produce the event.'* 

"As early as the year 1774, Dr. Franklin began to talk of a 
' total emancipation,'' or independence.! And Mr. Wirt represents 
Patrick Henry, as uttering the same sentiment anterior to the 
meeting of the first continental Congress, Yet the manner in 
which it was received by his hearers indicates that it was to them 
a novel and unexpected doctrine ; <■ at the word independence, the 
company appeared to be startled, for they had never heard any 
thing of the kind before even suggested.':}: 

"Washington, in his letter to Captain Mackenzie, denies, in very 
strong terms, that such was the design of any person, so far as his 
knowledge extended. No man, perhaps, was better informed on 
the subject by minghng in the society of others ; and it may hence 
be confidently inferred, that the topic of independence was not 
openly broached by the members of the first Congress, even in their 
private discourse among themselves. That he and his immediate 
friends had no such object in view is manifest from a clause in the 
Fairfax County Resolves, passed on the l8th of July preceding, at 
a public meeting over which he presided. It is there stated as a 
cause of complaint, < that the British ministry are artfully preju- 
dicing our sovereign, and inflaming the minds of our fellow-sub- 
jects in Great Britain, by propagating the most malevolent false- 
hoods, particularly that there is an intention in the American colo- 
nies to set up for independent states.'* It was the opinion of Wash- 
ington, and of the framers of these resolves, that the colonies had 
the power, by withholding their support of British commerce, to 
inflict so much distress on the people of Great Britain, as to rouse 
the government to a sense of the colonial wrongs, and produce a 
speedy change in their measures. And it was moreover supposed, 
that spirited resolutions, showing the almost universal sense of the 
people, that the acts of the British parliament in regard to them 
were oppressive and unjust, would tend to hasten so desirable a 
result. Such were, no doubt, the views entertained by all classes 
of people, and the motives actuating them in the primary move- 
ments of the Revolution. 

"The subject being somewhat curious, as well as interesting in 

* Gordon's History of the American Revolution, vol. i. p. 136. 

\ MiMiioir of Josiali Quincy, jun., p. 2.50. ^ Life of Patrick Henry, p. 94. 



THE QUESTION OF INDEPENDENCE. 157 

its historical aspect, I thought it not amiss to obtain the impres- 
sions of Mr. Madison, who could not fail to have a vivid recollec- 
tion of the popular feeling and principal events in Virginia at the 
period in question, and to know the sentiments of the political 
leaders. The following is an extract from his letter, dated Janu- 
ary 5th, 1828. 

"'You wish me to say whether I believe that at the beginning 
of the Revolution, or at the assembling of the first Congress, the 
leaders of that day were resolved on independence. I readily 
express my entire belief, that they were not ; though I must admit 
that my means of information were more limited than may have 
been the case with others still living to answer the inquiry. My 
first entrance on public life was in May, 1776, when I became a 
member of the convention in Virginia, which instructed her dele- 
gates in Congress to propose the Declaration of Independence. 
Previous to that date I was not in sufficient communication with 
any under the denomination of leaders, to learn their sentiments 
or views on that cardinal subject. 

" 'I can only say, therefore, that so far as ever came to my know- 
ledge, no one of them ever avowed, or was understood to entertain 
a pursuit of independence, at the assembling of the first Congress, 
or for a considerable period thereafter It has always been my 
impression, that a re-establishment of the colonial relations to the 
parent country, as they were previous to the controversy, was the 
real object of every class of the people, till despair of obtaining it, 
and the exasperating effects of the war, and the manner of con- 
ducting it, prepared the minds of all for the event declared on the 
4th of July, 1776, as preferable, with all its difficulties and perils, 
to the alternative of submission to a claim of power at once exter- 
nal, unlimited, irresponsible, and under every temptation to abuse, 
firom interest, ambition, and revenge. If there were individuals 
who aimed at independence, their views must have been confined 
to their own bosoms, or to a very confidential circle.' 

"It was the belief, before the meeting of the Congress, particu- 
larly of the more cautious and moderate, that petitions to the king 
and parliament by a body of representatives assembled from all 
parts of the colonies, would be respected, and in the end procure 
redress. They, on the contrary, who, like Washington, had no 
confidence in the success of this measure, looked forward to the 
probable issue of arms, but still without any other anticipations 
than, by a resolute \nndication of their rights, to effect a change 
in the conduct and policy of the British government, and restore 

O 



158 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

the colonies to their former condition. It was not till these peti- 
tions were rejected with a show of indifference, if not of contempt, 
that the eyes of all w^ere opened to the necessity of unconditional 
submission, or united resistance. From that time the word inde- 
pendence was boldly pronounced, and soon became a familiar sound 
to the ears of the whole people. 

"On the 10th of November, 1775, Mr. Richard Penn, who had 
been governor of Pennsylvania, and had left Philadelphia in the 
preceding July, was examined before the House of Lords, while 
the petition from Congress, which had been brought over and pre- 
sented by Mr. Penn, in conjunction with the agents for the colo- 
nies, was under discussion. The following questions and answers 
occur in the examination. 

" Question. Are you personally acquainted with many of the 
members of Congress ? 

<'^ Answer. I am acquainted with almost all the members of Con- 
gress. 

'< Question. Do you think they levy and carry on this war for the 
purpose of establishing an independent empire f 

<-t Answer. I think they do not carry on the war for independency. 
I never heard them breathe sentiments of that nature. 

" Question. For what purpose do you believe they have taken 
up arms ? 

^^ Answer. In defence of their liberties.* 

"It is a curious fact, that the ministers had at this moment in 
their hands two intercepted letters, written by Mr. John Adams in 
Congress, which expressed sentiments quite at variance with the 
testimony of Mr. Penn. These letters were dated on the 24th of 
July, only two weeks later than the petition to the king, taken to 
England by Mr. Penn, which was approved in Congress on the 
8th. They were intercepted in crossing the ferry at Newport, and 
sent on board Admiral Graves's fleet, whence they found their 
way to Lord Dartmouth. The originals are now in the State Paper 
Office. One of these letters was from Mr. Adams to his wife, in 
which he said : 

"'The business I have had on my mind has been as great and 
important as can be intrusted to one man, and the difficidty and 
intricacy of it are prodigious. When fifty or sixty men have a 
constitution to form for a great empire, at the same time that they 
have a country of fifteen hundred miles in extent to fortify, millions 
to arm and train, a naval power to begin, an extensive commerce 

* Parliamentary Debates, November, 1775. 



THE QUESTION OF INDEPENDENCE. 159 

to regulate, numerous tribes of Indians to negotiate with, a standing 
army of twenty-seven thousand men to raise, pay, victual, and 
officer, I really shall pity those fifty or sixty men.' 

" The other letter was to James Warren, at that time speaker of 
the Massachusetts Assembly, and contained the following declara- 
tions : 

"'We ought to have had in our hands a month ago the whole 
legislative, executive, and judicial power of the whole continent, 
and have completely modelled a constitution ; to have raised a 
naval power and opened all our ports wide ; to have arrested every 
friend to government on the continent, and held them as hostages 
for the poor victims in Boston ; and then opened the door as wide 
as possible for peace and reconciliation. After this, they might 
have petitioned, and negotiated, and addressed, if they would. Is 
all this extravagant? Is it wild? Is it not the soundest policy?' 

"With sentiments like these, coming from a prominent member 
of Congress, it is no wonder that the ministry should be puzzled 
to reconcile the doctrines and assertions of the petitions to the king, 
in which that body express their loyalty, and desire an opportunity 
< of evincing the sincerity of their professions, by every testimony 
of devotion becoming the most dutiful subjects and the most affec- 
tionate colonists.' No charge of insincerity, however, can attach 
to Mr. Adams. It is well known that he had little sympathy with 
the party who insisted on this last petition, and that he and others 
yielded to their associates, with the view of preserving peace and 
harmony within the walls of Congress, as the only means of ulti- 
mate union and success. At this stage of affairs, they hoped 
nothing from petitions, and anticipated a remedy of evils from no 
other sources, than strong and determined measures on the part of 
the representatives of the people. Whatever may have been the 
opinions or wishes of other members of Congress, it is hardly pos- 
sible, that Mr. Adams could hgve written the above letters without 
looking forward at least to the possibility of a speedy separation, 
and an independent form of government. The fact of their being 
in the hands of the ministry when the petition came under the 
notice of parliament, may serve as a key to some of the proceed- 
ings on the subject. 

"In tracing this matter farther, we shall find the opinions of 
Washington, Madison, and Penn, in regard to a scheme of inde- 
pendence among the colonists anterior to the beginning of the 
Revolution, confirmed by other testimony of the highest order. 
In a letter which Dr. Franklin wrote to his son, dated March 22, 



]60 



LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 




1775, he relates a 
conversation he had 
held in the August 
preceding with Lord 
Chatham, in which 
that statesman spoke 
of the prevailing be- 
lief in England, that 
the colonists aimed 
at setting themselves 
up as an independent 
state. <I assured 
him,' said Franklin, 
< that having more 
than once travelled 
almost from one end 
of the continent to 
the other, and kept a 
great variety of company, eating, drinking, and conversing with 
them freely, I never had heard in any conversation from any per- 
son, drunk or sober, the least expression of a wish for a separation, 
or a hint that such a thing would be advantageous to America.'* 

"Again, Mr. Jay, remarking on certain parts of Botta's History 
of the American Revolution, in a letter to Mr. Otis, January 13th, 
1821, thus expressed himself: 'During the course of my life, and 
until after the second petition of Congress in 1775, 1 never did hear 
an American of any class, or of any description, express a wish 
for the independence of the colonies.' < It has always been, and 
still is my opinion and belief, that our country was prompted and 
impelled to independence by necessity, and not by choice. They 
who knew how we were then circumstanced, know from whence 
that necessity resulted.'! 

"We have likewise the opinions uttered on the same occasion, 
of two other persons not less qualified to judge than any that have 
been mentioned. < That there existed a general desire of indepen- 
dence of the crown,' says Mr. John Adams, <in any part of Ame- 
rica, before the Revolution, is as far from the truth as the zenith 
from the nadir.' < For my own part, there was not a moment dur- 
ing the Revolution, when I would not have given every thing I pos- 
sessed for a restoration to the state of things before the contest 
* Franklin's Works, vol. i. p. 278. f Life of John Jay, vol. ii. p. 412 



THE QUESTION OF INDEPENDENCE. 161 

began, provided we would have had a sufficient security for its 
continuance.'* 

"And Mr. Jefferson affirmed, < What eastward of New York, 
might have been the disposition towards England before the com- 
mencement of hostilities, I know not ; before that I never had 
heard a whisper of a disposition to separate from Great Britain ; and 
after that, its possibility was contemplated with affliction by all.'f 

'< This mass of testimony, derived from separate sources, coin- 
cident in every particular, vouched by the first names in American 
history, and the principal actors in producing a separation, is per- 
fectly conclusive on this point. It is moreover established, as Mr. 
Jay has remarked, by all the public documents and proceedings of 
the colonial legislatures, in which assurances of loyalty and allegi- 
ance are uniform and cordial. Any opinion, therefore, that the 
spirit of independence had an early origin, and a progressive 
growth, with a direct aim to a separation, or the prospect of such 
an event, must be a mere inference, sanctioned only by the circum- 
stances of the free institutions of the colonies, and the tendency of 
a people under such institutions to self-government and a system 
independent of foreign control." 

After citing the opinion of Mr. Sparks, that independence was 
not sought by the leading American patriots at the beginning of 
the contest, it is but fair to show, by a quotation from a respectable 
English authority, (the Pictorial History of England,) that a con- 
trary opinion was entertained by the ministry, and to exhibit the 
grounds afforded for that opinion, by the conduct of Dr. Franklin. 
Whatever views may have been entertained by leading men in this 
country, Franklin, then in England, seems to have anticipated and 
desired a total separation of the colonies from the parent state. 

Franklin's sending Governor Hutchinson's letters to Boston was 
one of the facts which influenced the author of the above-mentioned 
work to say : << We believe that by nature, by habit, by the whole 
course of his life, Franklin was disposed to be a republican ; and 
that, from the very beginning of the troubles, he aimed at nothing 
short of revolution, independence, and the establishment of a com- 
monwealth in his native country." For his agency in the affair of 
the letters, Franklin w^as dismissed from his office of postmaster- 
general. The quotation in the note below refers to a subsequent 
transaction.! 

* Life of John Jay, vol. ii. p. 416. t Ibid. p. 417. 

± "In England, meanwhile, Franklin had not been idle. As instructed by his con- 
stituents, he had given all possible publicity to the addresses of the general congress to 
21 o 2 



162 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

The Congress destined to change the face of America, met at 
Carpenter's Hall, Philadelphia, on the 5th of September, 1774 ; 
and if any further evidence were necessary to show that they assem- 
bled with an almost universal desire to heal, and not to widen the 

the king and to the people of Great Britain — the first to show how loyal were the 
Americans — the second (Jay's composition) to excite the popular body. Moreover, 
the philosopher, assisted by numerous agents, and by some of the members of opposi- 
tion in parliament, had been extremely active in some of the principal manufacturing 
towns of the north of England, particularly among the dissenters, who were urged to 
petition the throne in favour of the colonies and of their own trade, which must suffer 
immensely from the non-importation agreements. To counteract these agencies, to 
show that Franklin's scheme was in reality nothing less than to dismember the British 
empire, to check the petitions, or get up counter-petitions, Adam Smith, the author of 
the ' Wealth of Nations,' applied to Dr. Roebuck, the eminent physician of Biniiing- 
ham, and the intimate friend of Shenstone, the poet, imploring him, without loss of 
time, to make a journey through the manufacturing districts, Manchester, Leeds, Shef- 
field, Birmingham, &c., to see his friends, to communicate with the people, and to 
explain to them the real motives and objects of the Americans. This was done in 
concurrence with Wedderburn, the solicitor-general, who at the same time adopted 
other measures to check or throw discredit on the petitions Franklin was procuring. 
Soon after Adam Smith's letter was written, an attempt was made to disarm Franklin's 
hostility, or to ascertain his intentions, by an English lady, and by that lady's brother, 
Admiral Lord Howe, who had probably been already designated for the American com- 
mand, which he afterwards held with so little glory. The philosopher, being introduced 
by Mr. Raper, a member of the Royal Society, played a few games at chess with the 
lady, whom he found of very sensible conversation and pleasing behaviour ; and the 
lady, on Christmas day, made him acquainted with Lord Howe, saying that he was a 
very good man, and that she was sure they would like each other. According to 
Franklin, Lord Howe behaved in the most courteous manner, said that, beside the 
general motives for his desiring an acquaintance with so eminent a man, he had a 
particular motive at this time, arising out of the alarming situation of American 
affairs, which no one understood better than Dr. Franklin. The philosopher further 
says that Howe confessed that he (Franklin) had been very ill treated by the EngUsh 
ministry ,■ that he had much disapproved of their conduct towards him ; that some of 
the ministers themselves were ashamed of it, and sorry it had happened. But even 
in this account, which is Franklin's own, it is certainly not said that Howe expressed 
his disbelief of the charges, touching the letters, which Wedderburn had made against 
Franklin before the privy-council. From the nature of his mission, from his inward 
conviction that in winning over Franklin he would have won over America, Howe, in 
spite of his habitual taciturnity, may, no doubt, have made use of many conciliatory 
and flattering expressions (and, without flattery, there was much to applaud and rever- 
ence in Franklin's history, character, and intellectual performances;) but we cannot 
discover that, either on this or any other occasion, Howe gave the lie to Wedderburn, 
however much he may have disapproved of that functionary's injudicious violence. 
After a few general observations as to the possibility of bringing about a reconciliation 
through the medium of a communication by himself (Lord Howe) with the ministry, 
his lordship, says Franklin, concluded by observing that "being himself upon no ill 
terms with ministers, he thought it not impossible that he might, by conveying my 
sentiments to them, and theirs to me, be the means of bringing on a good understand- 
ing, without committing either them or me, if his negotiation should not succeed ; and 
that I might rely on his keeping perfectly secret every thing I should wish to remain 
so." Franklin's account — and ice have no other — goes on to state that he told Lord 
Howe that his manner was such as had already engaged his confidence ; that he 
requested his lordship to give him credit for a sincere desire of healing the breach 
between the two countries, assuring him that he would do every thing in his small 
power to accomplish it, though he apprehended, from the king's last speech, and from 
the measures talked of, no intention or disposition of the kind existed in the present 



DECLARATION OF RIGHTS. 163 

breach between the colonies and the parent state, it would be found 
in the measures they first adopted, and which were so important, 
so characteristic, and so conclusive upon many points of party dis- 
cussion, as to have ever since claimed the attention of the historical 
student. 

It is related in the life of Peyton Randolph, on the authority of 
the venerable Charles Thomson, that on the first day of the ses- 
sion, the house having been summoned to prayers, and after the 
chaplain had commenced the service, it was perceived that of the 
fifty-five members present, George Washington was the only one 
who was upon his knees. This was characteristic. He was truly 
reUgious, and, in every circumstance and relation, strictly moral 
and blameless. In Washington, the sense of duty always prevailed 
over all other feelings or considerations. 

The Congress then determined that their deliberations should be 
secret, that the result should be given to the world as unanimous, 
and no diflference of opinion be allowed to transpire. A committee 

cabinet. He said that, as to the personal injuries his lordship had spoken of, they 
were not worth mentioning ; and that, besides, it was a fixed rule with him not to 
mix his private affairs with those of the public. This first interview ended by Lord 
Howe obtaining a promise from FrankUn, that he would draw up in writing a series 
of propositions on which he thought a good understanding between the mother country 
and the colonies might be based. They agreed to meet again at the same place — the 
house of Lord Howe's sister — in the course of a few days, in order to discuss those propo- 
sitions. When Howe saw the paper, he must have been convinced that the British 
government would not pay the least attention to it, and that Franklin never intended 
they should ; for his propositions, without periphrasis, were : — that all the laws and 
acts of parliament, or all parts of them requested to be repealed in the petition of the 
general congress to the king, should be repealed forthwith ; that orders should be given 
to withdraw all the ships of war from Boston, and remove all the troops, that the 
colonies might be left at liberty in all their future speculations, &c. They scarcely 
admitted even of a private discussion, and Lord Howe merely told Franklin he would 
lay them before ministers, without any hope that such propositions were likely to 
produce any good effect. His lordship, however, brougiit about a meeting in private 
between Franklin and Lord Hyde ; but this was equally void of effect. The philosopher 
expressed, indeed, on all occasions, a tender anxiety for the preservation of peace and good 
fellowship ; but he would never pledge himself to a single sacrifice or concession, con- 
tinuing to ask for extreme conditions, which would have left the English government 
scarcely the shadow of authority, and which would have given the colonies virtually 
an entire independence, although he persisted in declaring that independence was 
neither their object nor their wish. Lord Howe saw him again for the last time a 
Uttle before his return to his constituents in America, apologized for the trouble he had 
given him, but hoped, if he should chance to be sent out by his government to attempt 
an arrangement with the colonists, he might still expect his assistance. Franklin 
assured him of his readiness at all times to co-operate with him in so good a work. 
' And so,' says he, ' taking my leave, and receiving his good wishes, ended the nego- 
liation with Lord Howe.' We shall meet the philosopher again before his departure, 
giving assurances of his good intentions to Lord Chatham, who appears to have been 
determined not to doubt in the slightest degree of his sincerity, and not to diminish 
the blame due to the king and Lord North's cabinet by laying any portion of it upon 
Franklin and his countrymen." 



164 



LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 




was then appointed to draw up a report upon the rights violated, 
the injuries sustained, and the means of redress. The committee 
soon made their report, and on the 1st of October the Congress 
entered into an unanimous declaration of rights ; protesting against 
the various acts passed during the preceding years, for the purpose 
of taxing and interfering with the charters of the various colonies, 
as an infringement and violation of those rights, and binding them- 
selves and their constituents to the minute observance of a series 
of agreements, calculated to cut off all commercial intercourse 
between themselves and Great Britain, till redress of their griev- 
ances should be obtained. 

HEY next framed a petition to the king, 
a memorial to the people of Great Britain, 
an address to the colonists at large, and 
another to the people of Canada. " To 
the king they appealed, as a sovereign 
whose true interest and glory were inse- 
parable from the liberty and happiness of 
which his ministers were attempting to 
bereave them."* "We ask," said they, 
"but for peace, liberty, and safety. We wish not a diminution 
of the prerogative, nor do we solicit the grant of any new right in 
our favour. Your royal authority over us, and our connection with 
Great Britain, we shall always carefully and zealously endeavour 
to support and maintain." They concluded this address to the 
sovereign in the following pathetic terms: "We implore your 
majesty, for the honour of Almighty God, whose pure religion our 
enemies are undermining; for your glory, which can be advanced 
only by rendering your subjects happy, and keeping them united ; 
for the interests of your family, depending on the principles which 
enthroned it; for the safety and welfare of your kingdom and 
dominions, threatened with almost unavoidable dangers and dis- 
tresses ; that your majesty, as the loving father of your whole peo- 
ple, connected by the same bonds of law, loyalty, faith, and blood, 
though dwelling in various countries, will not suffer the transcend- 
ent relations formed by these ties to be further violated, in uncer- 
tain expectation of effects that, if attained, never can compensate 
for the calamities through which they must be gained. 

"We, therefore, most earnestly beseech your majesty, that your 
royal authority and interposition may be used for our relief, and 
that a gracious answer may be given to this petition." 

* Grahame, 494. 



THE CONTINENTAL CONGRESS. 165 

To the people of Britain, they earnestly declared the high vahie 
which they attached to a full share in the system of the British con- 
stitution, and represented the danger portended to the whole system 
by the extinction of liberty, its vital principle, in so large and flou- 
rishing a department of the empire. "Place us," they said, "in 
the situation in which we were at the close of the last war, and our 
former harmony will be restored." 

The address to their constituents is replete with serious and tem- 
perate argument. In this paper, the several causes which had led 
to the existing state of things were detailed at large, and great care 
was taken thoroughly to convince their judgments, that their liber- 
ties must be destroyed and the security of their property and per- 
sons annihilated, by submission to the pretensions of Great Britain. 
Their greatest object being to unite the people of America, by de- 
monstrating to them the sincerity with which their leaders had 
sought for reconciliation, on terms compatible with liberty; the 
conduct of the colonists was contended to have been uniformly 
moderate, and entirely exempt from blame, while the system of 
administration was treated as equally dangerous to them all, although 
it insidiously professed to be particularly aimed at Massachusetts. 
They stated the measures of commercial resistance which had 
been recommended, and after having declared their confidence that 
they would prove efficacious if persisted in with fidelity and virtue, 
they concluded with saying : 

"Your own salvation, and that of your posterity, now depends 
upon yourselves. You have already shown that you entertain a 
proper sense of the blessings you are striving to retain against the 
temporary inconvenience you may suffer from a stoppage of trade ; 
you will weigh in the opposite balance the endless miseries you and 
your descendants must endure from an established arbitrary power ; 
you will not forget the honour of your country, that must, from your 
behaviour, take its title, in the estimation of the world, to glory or to 
shame ; and you will, with the deepest attention, reflect, that if the 
peaceable mode of opposition recommended by us be broken and 
rendered ineffectual, as your cruel and haughty ministerial enemies, 
from a contemptuous opinion of your firmness, insolently predict 
will be the case, you must inevitably be reduced to choose either a 
more dangerous contest, or a final, infamous, and ruinous submis- 
sion. 

" Motives thus cogent, arising fi-om the emergency of your un- 
happy condition, must excite your utmost diligence and zeal to 
give all possible strength and energy to the pacific measures calcu- 



166 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

lated for your relief. But we think ourselves bound in duty to 
observe to you, that the schemes agitated against these colonies 
have been so conducted as to render it prudent that you should 
extend your views to mournful events, and be in all respects pre- 
pared for every contingency. Above all things, we earnestly en- 
treat you, with devotion of spirit, penitence of heart, and amend- 
ment of life, to humble yourselves, and implore the favour of Al- 
mighty God ; and we fervently beseech his Divine goodness to take 
you into his gracious protection." 

They called upon the Canadians to make common cause with 
their fellow-colonists, and to elect delegates to the Continental 
Congress. 

After directing these several addresses to be distributed, and 
recommending that another Congress should be held at Philadel- 
phia on the 10th of May following, unless a redress of grievances 
should, before that time, be obtained, they, on the 26th of October, 
dissolved their assembly, and the members returned to their re- 
spective homes. Shortly after Patrick Henry returned to Virginia, 
he was asked by a friend, who was the first man in the Congress 
which had met at Philadelphia. He replied, "If you speak of 
eloquence, Mr. Rutledge of South Carohna is by far the greatest 
orator ; but if you speak of solid information and sound judgment. 
Colonel Washington is unquestionably the greatest man on that 
floor.* 

HE proceedings of this Congress were viewed 
throughout America with enthusiastic admira- 
tion. Though they claimed no authority as a 
legislative assembly, yet their resolutions were 
almost unanimously received as the most binding- 
enactments. A thorough conviction of the recti- 
tude of their cause awakened the whole community to the most 
vigorous exertions. Independent military companies were formed 
throughout the provinces, and a presentiment of an approaching 
war spread itself through the length and breadth of the land. 

The petition from Congress to the king arrived in England, 
when his majesty was just about to meet a new parliament. In 
the speech from the throne, he announced, "that a most daring 
spirit of resistance and disobedience to the laws unhappily pre- 
vailed in the colony of Massachusetts ;" and, at ihe same time, 
intimated the steps which he considered necessary to repress it. 
A short delay, however, occurred before active measures were 
* Wirt's Life of Patrick Henry, p. 113. 




THE EARL OF CHATHAM. 



167 




THE HARt, OF OHA.THAM. 



adopted, and hopes began to revive in the breasts of the friends 
of American liberty. Lord Chatham yet lived. " That splendid 
orb had not yet set for ever. The Western horizon yet blazed 
with his descending glory ;"* and in the House of Lords, to which 
he had lately been raised, he once more threw the whole force of 
his mighty eloquence into the balance of liberty, which was now 
vibrating fearfully between peace and war. 

He began by offering a motion that an humble address be pre- 
sented to his majesty, most humbly advising and beseeching him 
to withdraw the royal forces from Boston ; and he supported his 
motion by one of the most eloquent and impressive speeches ever 
delivered in the British parliament. He told the House that in 
this distracted state of affairs, though bowed down with a cruel 
disease, he had crawled thither to offer them his best counsel and 
experience. He urged the necessity of the step he recommended, 
as the means of opening a way for settling the dangerous troubles 
in America, by beginning to allay ferments and soften animosities 
there. He said, an hour now lost might produce years of calamity. 

* Burke. 



168 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

His object was to put his foot upon the threshold of peace. His 
present motion was only the introduction to a comprehensive plan; 
and he pledged himself to the House, that he would not desert, for 
a moment, the conduct of this mighty business. Unless nailed to 
his bed by the extremity of sickness, he would give it his unremit- 
ted attention ; he would knock at the door of a sleeping and con- 
founded ministry, and rouse them to a sense of their imminent 
danger. He described the situation of the troops at Boston as truly 
umvorthy, being penned up, and pining in inglorious inactivity. 
He called them an army of impotence and contempt ; and to make 
the folly equal to the disgrace, they were an army of irritation. 

After stating that the Americans had been " abused, misrepre- 
sented, and traduced, in the most atrocious manner, in order to 
give colour, and urge on the most precipitate, unjust, cruel, and 
vindictive measures that ever disgraced a nation," he asks, "but 
how have this respectable people behaved under their grievances ? 
With unexampled patience, with unparalleled wusdom. They chose 
delegates by their free suffrages ; no bribery, no corruption, no 
influence there, my lords. Their representatives meet with the 
sentiments, and temper, and speak the sense of the continent. 
For myself, I must avow, that in all my reading and observation — 
and I have read Thucydides, and have studied and admired the 
master states of the world — I find nothing recorded in antiquity, 
which, in genuine sagacity, in singular moderation, in solid 
wisdom, manly spirit, sublime sentiments, and simplicity of 
language, in every thing respectable and honourable, that can 
rival the despised Congress of Philadelphia. This wise people 
speak out. They do not hold the language of slaves ; they tell 
you what they mean. They do not ask you to repeal your laws 
as a favour ; they claim it as a right, they demand it. They 
tell you they will not submit to them ; and I tell you the acts 
must be repealed ; they will be repealed ; you cannot enforce 
them. The ministry are checkmated; they have a move to make 
on the board ; yet not a move, they are ruined. Repeal, therefore, 
my lords, I say. But bare repeal will not satisfy this enlightened, 
and spirited people. It is not repealing this or that act of parlia- 
ment ; not the annihilation of a few shreds of parchment, that can 
restore America to your bosom. You must go through the work — 
you must declare you have no right to tax — you must repeal her 
fears and resentments ; and you may then hope for her love and 
gratitude. 

<' The cause of America is the cause of every true Whig. This 



THE EARL OF CHATHAM. 169 

glorious spirit animates three millions of men in our colonies. What 
shall oppose this spirit, aided by the congenial flame, glowing in 
the breast of every whig in England, to the amount, I hope, of double 
the American numbers ? Ireland, they have to a man. Nay, what 
dependence can you have upon your soldiery, the unhappy instru- 
ments of your wrath ? They are Englishmen, who must feel for the 
privileges of EngUshmen ; and their carrying muskets and bayonets 
about them surely does not exclude them from the pale of the civil 
community. Foreign war hangs over your heads, by a slight and 
brittle thread. France and Spain are watching your conduct, and 
waiting for the maturity of your errors." 

HIS animated harangue was concluded in 
the following emphatic manner, <<My 
lords, if the ministers thus persevere in 
misadvising the king, he will be undone. 
He may, indeed, still wear his crown, but, 
the American jewel out of it, it will not 
be worth the wearing. I must not say 
the king is betrayed ; but this I will say, 
the nation is ruined." 

It was all in vain. The motion of Lord 
Chatham, though supported by Lord Cam- 
den, Lord Shelburne, and the Marquis of 
Rockingham, was rejected by a large 
majority. Parliament seemed determined on coercion. 

The crisis was at hand. On the 9th of February, 1775, a joint 
address of both houses of parliament was presented to the king, 
declaring that '< a rebellion actually existed in the province of Mas- 
sachusetts." This was followed by a vote, adding 4400 land troops 
and 2000 seamen to the military and naval forces of the kingdom ; 
and this, in close succession, was followed by the passage of an act 
restraining the commerce of all the colonies, except New York, 
Delaware, and North Carolina, to Great Britain, Ireland, and the 
West Indies, and to prevent them from fishing on the banks of New- 
foundland, under certain conditions, and for a limited time. The 
exceptions in this case may have been designed to create disunion 
among the colonies ; but it only served to draw them closer to- 
gether. 

After this series of coercive measures. Lord North, the premier, 

surprised the House by a conciliatory proposition. He procured 

the passage of an act, declaring that parliament would forbear to 

tax any colony which should tax itself to such an amount as govern- 

22 P 




170 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

ment might deem satisfactory. On the introduction of this measure 
Lord North exposed himself to a hot fire from his usual supporters, 
who branded the attempt as grossly inconsistent with all his former 
measures. So warmly was he opposed by his friends, that he was 
compelled to give them an explanation, which he did in the follow- 
ing words : "If this bill does no good in the colonies, it will do 
good here ; it will unite the people of England, by holding out to 
them a distinct object of revenue." He added further, « As it tends 
to unite England, it is likely to disunite America ; for if only one 
province accept the offer, their confederacy, which alone makes 
them formidable, will be broken." 

This bill, which was thus unblushingly advocated, passed into a 
law, but as it remedied no grievance but that of taxation, and even 
on that head contained nothing specific, it was received in America 
with mingled indignation and derision. 

Mr. Burke, on the 25th of JNIarch, brought forward, and eloquently 
supported, a series of resolutions, in which, without entering into 
any question of speculative right, a complete practical concession 
was made of all the points in dispute. His resolutions were nega- 
tived. The general tendency of his speech may be learned from 
the language of Mr. Fox respecting it. "Let gentlemen," he said, 
" read this speech by day, and meditate on it by night ; let them 
peruse it again and again, study it, imprint it on their minds, im- 
press it on their hearts. They would then learn that representation 
was the sovereign remedy for every evil." 

Dr. Franklin, who was then in London, endeavoured to effect 
a reconciliation by drawing up seventeen propositions, which, with 
permission, he submitted to the ministry. Two months after their 
delivery an answer was returned virtually granting all that he asked, 
except the abolition of the new constitution of Massachusetts. 
Franklin answered, that the claim of altering the charters and rights 
upon which the governments were founded, without the consent of 
the parties to whom they were granted, was one to which Americans 
could never submit. The obstinate refusal of the cabinet to restore 
the ancient charter of Massachusetts, broke off the communications,' 
and Franklin, despairing of the continuance of peace, returned to 
America, resolved to share in her trials, and devote his talents to 
the maintenance of her rights. 

In the mean time, affairs in America were inevitably hurried on 
in the course to which they had long been tending. General Gage, 
who had summoned the Massachusetts Assembly, to meet at Salem, 
on the 5th of October, 1774, felt that in the tumultuary state of the 



GENERAL GAGE'S OPERATIONS. 171 

country, he could not with safety repair thither to open it. Learn- 
ing also that of thirty-six counsellors named by him, though twenty- 
four had at first accepted, the greater number were induced or 
compelled to resign, he issued a proclamation countermanding the 
writs ; but the members, treating it as illegal, repaired at the time 
appointed to Salem. There they went through the form of wait- 
ing a day, as if for the governor, and then removed their sittings 
to Concord, about twenty miles in the interior. Hence they sent 
out directions for all the branches of administration, the disciplin- 
ing of the militia, the retaining of the taxes in the hands of the 
revenue-officers for patriotic purposes, and the collection of arms 
and ammunition. They remonstrated with Gage on the increase 
of troops, the fortifying of Boston, and other hostile proceedings ; 
but he repelled their complaints, and warned them that their own 
meeting was altogether illegal. He had again recourse to a pro- 
clamation enjoining that no regard should be paid to their usurped 
authority, instead of which, his mandates were entirely disregarded, 
while theirs met with implicit obedience. They adjourned, but 
met again by appointment at Cambridge, on the 4th of February. 
They then announced to the people that the tenor of the king's 
speech, and other information, afforded little prospect of compliance 
with their reasonable demands ; on the contrary, numerous reinforce- 
ments were expected, in order to compel ignominious submission. 
The most strenuous invitations were therefore employed to induce 
them to improve their military discipUne, and to collect fire-arms 
and bayonets. 

General Gage had hitherto, probably under instructions from 
home, avoided every movement M'hich would bring on a collision 
and lead to a commencement of actual war. Yet, remaining almost 
besieged at Boston, he began to experience scarcity of provisions ; 
and an impression was felt, that something must be done to check 
these extensive preparations and seize the military stores now col- 
lected all over the country. He formed the injudicious plan of 
sending out secretly small detachments to capture them by sur- 
prise. Even if successful, which was not very probable, the adop- 
tion of such a scheme must have lowered the impression of British 
power. If the troops were to march into the country, it should have 
been in such large bodies as would overpower, and even deter 
resistance. A small party sent towards Salem, were induced to 
return, owing to the mere obstacles raised by the country people 
against their march.* 

* Murray's History of the United States, 



172 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

The governor having learned that a considerable magazine of 
stores had been formed at Concord, determined on an attempt to 
seize them. He employed a larger force, but trusted still to se- 
crecy and surprise. On the night of the l8th of April, 1775, he 
detached from his garrison for this purpose, eight hundred picked 
men, under the command of Lieutenant-colonel Smith, who sought 
the more effectually to conceal his march, by sending forward 
horsemen to arrest all travellers on the road. But, notwithstanding 
every precaution, startling indications of wakefulness presented 
themselves on every side. Dr. Warren, of Boston, had, by some 
means, obtained information of the intended expedition, and no 
sooner had the detachment started, than the intelHgence was borne, 
as quick as light could carry it, from the steeple of the old town- 
house, glancing from every hill-top, and confirmed by the ringing 
of alarm-bells, until it reached every point within a circle of thirty 
miles around Boston. As the British troops marched along the 
road in the early morning twilight, they saw men on horseback 
hurrying along from point to point, with determination and indig- 
nation stamped upon their countenances. As no one offered any 
opposition to their march, their courage soon revived, and they 
arrived at the village of Lexington about five o'clock on the morning 
of the 19th, in high spirits. There they found about a hundred 
militia-men drawn up under arms, ou the green before the meeting- 
house. Major Pitcairn, galloping up, in no very courteous terms, 
ordered them to disperse ; and, on their hesitating to obey his 
commands, he discharged his pistol, and ordered his soldiers to 
fire. By the discharge which followed, three or four of the militia 
were killed, and the rest retreated behind the church and dispersed. 
After this slight skirmish, this opening of the tragedy. Lieutenant- 
colonel Smith proceeded on his march until he reached the town 
of Concord, of which he took possession unopposed. He then 
detached parties to guard the approaches to the town, while the 
main body proceeded to destroy the arms, ammunition, and provi- 
sions, which were found in store. A detachment, sent forward to 
occupy a bridge, was surrounded by a body of militia and minute- 
men, who, having approached in the guise of travellers, were op- 
posed and fired upon. A general skirmish commenced, which 
ended in the confused retreat of the detachment towards the main 
body in the town. Smith immediately ordered a retreat. The 
militia, increasing in numbers, commenced a series of desultory 
attacks ; and, without concert, organization, or orders, maintained 
a galling fire upon the fi-ont, flanks, and rear of the retreating 



THE BATTLE OF LEXINGTON. 173 

column, from behind houses, walls, and trees. When the British 
arrived at Lexington, they found themselves in a most exhausted 
state ; and they vsrould, no doubt, have been totally destroyed, had 
not General Gage, apprehensive for the fate of the expedition, sent 
forward Lord Percy, in the morning, with sixteen companies of 
foot, a corps of marines, and two pieces of artillery, to support 
Lieutenant-colonel Smitli. The retreating and advancing: detach- 
ments entered Lexington at opposite points, at the same time, and 
the latter, with their field-pieces, checked the fierce pursuit of the 
provincials, while the former were resuming order, and putting 
themselves in a better posture of defence. All together then pro- 
ceeded towards Boston, while the assailants, without attempting to 
obstruct their march, kept up an incessant fire, both in front and 
rear, from behind stone walls, which lined the road along the 
greater part of the route. The British forces arrived, exhausted 
and wearied, at Bunker's Hill, near Boston, a little after sunset, 
having sustained a loss of sixty-five killed, one hundred and eighty 
wounded, and twenty-eight prisoners. The loss of the Americans 
was fifty killed and thirty-four wounded. 

The intelligence of this event excited the utmost enthusiasm 
throughout Massachusetts, and the whole country was soon put in 
warlike array. The first blood was shed in defence of American 
rights, and without adequate provocation. The militia had met in 
open conflict with the proud army of England and overthrown it. 
They had come to that conflict on a sudden summons, without 
arrangement, discipline, or experience, every one obeying the 
impulse of his own patriotism and courage ; and though some were 
roused from their sleep at the dead of night, others hurried, half- 
armed, from long distances, and others mingled in the affi'ay, with- 
out well knowing how it commenced, or what was its object ; all 
fought almost without thinking, certainly without shrinking, until 
the night closed upon vanquished and victors ; when the first had 
time to take counsel, or consider the consequences of the unforeseen 
battle in which they had engaged, and the unhoped-for triumph 
which they had won. Out of victory thus gained in the first en- 
counter, arose a new hope for the whole land. The British cannon 
at Lexington dispelled the apathy, as it kindled the indignation of 
every man from the St. Lawrence to James's River ; and though 
peace was still assumed to be the condition of the colonies, and 
England's acts and language w-ere becoming more conciliatory, 
both felt that their differences were, from that hour, committed 
to the arbitrement of the sword, and each prepared, at once, with 



174 LIFE OF WASHINGTON, 

the utmost diligence, for the bloody trial which appeared imminent 
and inevitable. 

The sentiments of Washington, in reference to these events, may 
be gathered from a letter written by him to George William Fair- 
fax, in England, dated at Philadelphia, May 31, 1775, while he 
was there attending the Second Continental Congress. It is as 
follows : 

" Dear Sir, — Before this letter will come to hand, you must 
undoubtedly have received an account of the engagement in the 
Massachusetts Bay, between the ministerial troops, (for w^e do not, 
nor can w^e yet prevail upon ourselves to call them the king's troops) 
and the provincials of that government. But as you may not have 
heard how that affair began, I enclose you the several affidavits* 
which were taken after the action. 

" General Gage acknowledges that the detachment under Lieu- 
tenant-colonel Smith was sent out to destroy private property ; or, 
in other words, to destroy a magazine, which self-preservation 
obliged the inhabitants to establish. And he also confesses, in 
effect at least, that his men made a very precipitate retreat from 
Concord, notwithstanding the reinforcement under Lord Percy ; 
the last of which may serve to convince Lord Sandwich and others 
of the same sentiment, that the Americans will fight for their liber- 
ties and property, however pusillanimous, in his lordship's eye, they 
may appear in other respects. 

" From the best accounts I have been able to collect of that affair, 
indeed from every one, I believe, the fact, stripped of all colouring, 
to be plainly this, that if the retreat had not been so precipitate as 
it was, and God knows it could not well have been more so, the 
ministerial troops must have surrendered, or been totally cut off. 
For they had not arrived in Charlestown (under cover of their ships) 
half an hour, before a powerful body of men from Marblehead and 
Salem was at their heels, and must, if they had happened to be up one 
hour sooner, inevitably have intercepted their retreat to Charlestown. 
Unhappy it is, though, to reflect, that a brother's sword has been 
sheathed in a brother's breast, and that the once happy and peace- 
ful plains of America are either to be drenched with blood, or in- 
habited by slaves. Sad alternative ! but can a virtuous man hesi- 
tate in his choice ?" 

The Provincial Congress of Massachusetts being in session at 
the time of the battle of Lexington, passed a vote for raising thir- 

* These depositions were inleiided to prove that the British were the aggressors, 
and had commenced the action at Lexington. 



THE PROVINCIAL ARMY. 175 

teen thousand six hundred men, and called upon the other New 
England colonies to increase this number to thirty thousand. 
These acts were almost unnecessary, for the provincials crowded 
to the standard raised *in defence of their rights, in numbers 
greater than could be maintained in the field ; and placed them- 
selves under the command of Generals Ward, Stark, Putnam, 
and other officers, as chance or their incHnation suggested. The 
fortifications of Boston were considered sufficiently strong to pre- 
clude the hazard of an attack ; and the number of the British in 
garrison was increased by the addition of ten thousand men, who 
arrived about the same time as Lord North's conciliatory reso- 
lution. • 

The provincials, however, formed a line of thirty miles in extent 
around the peninsula on which the town is built, entirely cutting 
off its connection with the surrounding country. 

Thus stood these two armies in front of each other ; tlie one on 
the heights of the town, and the other on the surrounding hills, 
each animated by powerful, but diffi^rent impulses to begin that 
contest which was to decide the fate of American liberty. The 
British, weary of inactivity, thirsted to become participators in the 
glory which their new generals — Howe, Burgoyne, and Clinton — 
had won on every debated field in Europe, over the most disci- 
plined and tried valor, and which they did not think could be 
perilled in open conflict with the raw, unorganized mobs of the co- 
lonies. Even those who shared in the former short struggle and 
sudden flight, could not admit that, on a fair field, and in battle 
order, they would not be an over-match for ten times their number 
of the provincials. Surrounding them was the ocean, over whose 
vast space spread their undisturbed dominion, while their enemies 
had not a single shallop or a mounted gun along their extended 
line of coast. Between them and their country, profuse in wealth, 
valor, and the munitions of war, there rose no barrier, nor could 
even coward's fear suggest the apprehension that a country with- 
out a single ship would attempt to intercept their convoys on that 
highway of nations, where the angry elements alone were supposed 
to be their rivals. The army was well provided with stores, and 
every thing necessary for aggression or defence. Their vessels of 
war were moored around the town, and so placed as not only to 
render the narrow accesses thereto impassable, but, if need be, to 
reduce the town itself to ashes in a single hour. And this fair and 
growing town was the capital of the province, contained most of 



176 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

its wealth, was the seat of its provincial assembly, and inhabited 
by thirty thousand Americans ; so that, if ever they were, as it 
seemed, blockaded in their city camp, they had in their power the 
lives of nearly twice their own number of the enemy, and not a 
shell could be thrown into their intrenchments without imminent 
risk of a conflagration, which would lay in ruins that proud, rising, 
though, as they thought, rebellious city, so justly an object of pride 
and love to the besieging army. 

And, on the other hand, what was that army ? By this time 
several officers had assumed the command of its different divisions ; 
but they were independent of each other, and subject to no supe- 
rior ; nor did they derive their rank from any civil authority. They 
neither received nor expected pay for that dangerous service, and 
were kept together solely by virtuous patriotism. The troops, if 
such they might be called, acknowledged no control, and though 
they sat down before the city, prepared to brave danger and death, 
they were bound by no obligation, save their own courageous pur- 
pose. The army was, in fact, a multitude of men brought together 
by the impulsive enthusiasm of sudden emergency ; but there was 
no instance of devotion in ancient or modern times to suggest a 
hope that, without provisions, ammunition, clothing, or pay, be- 
yond the uncertain supplies which patriotism might furnish, they 
could be maintained, after the first flush of victory subsided, or 
necessity began to press upon them. They had scarcely any of 
the agencies, which, in all ages, enabled nations to wage success- 
ful war. Their first impulse t() resistance arose from their aversion 
to taxation ; and no one man in all the colonies would be bold 
enough to counsel the heavier tax necessary to meet the expenses 
of the country's defence ; nor was there any constitutional or dele- 
gated authority competent to impose it. Perhaps that great strug- 
gle presented, in all its vicissitudes, no feature so singular and 
admirable as the mutual faith and trust which kept those thousands, 
with their chiefs, knit together, during the doubtful period that in- 
tervened between the battle of Lexington and the appointment by 
Congress, of a commander-in-chief, who was to reduce to order, 
discipline, and efficiency, the elements of resistance which his 
country presented, and lead these raw troops, at first to desperate 
struggles, sure of defeat, and finally to victory and glory. 

In the provincial army there were many men of eminent abilities 
and tried patriotism. There were generals, and colonels, and cap- 
tains ; but among them all, there was not one moulding mind, 



EXPLOITS OF COLONEL ARNOLD. 177 

having confidence and power to undertake the management of the 
whole, so as to secure the means of making a permanent stand for 
the hberties of the country. The salvation of America, at this 
juncture, depended on the cordiality of co-operation which pre- 
vailed in the camp. Each chief confined the sphere of his action 
to his own immediate duties, and none thought of supplanting or 
overruling his brother officer, while every man in the army must 
have felt that his personal responsibility extended to the entire 
defence of his country. Hence, he was indifferent where, or under 
whom he served, and was eager to perform any duty, the only emu- 
lation between him and his fellows being, who could do the best 
service and incur the greater peril. There is no trial of a man's 
courage so severe as uncertainty ; nor was there ever on earth an 
instance when uncertainty prevailed to as great an extent, as during 
the first struggle of the people of Massachusetts. They knew not 
what resolution the other states had come to. From the great 
extent of the coimtry, and the delays and difficulties of holding 
communications, the people of New England might have been 
scattered by the invading army long before those of Virginia or the 
Carolinas had intelligence of their first resistance, or could even 
determine either on giving or refusing aid ; yet was there none 
found to falter or to hesitate ; and all trusted that the same just cause, 
in defence of which they took up arms, would find volunteers 
throughout every part of the continent. They calculated truly, for 
while the camp was recruited by almost every young man in Mas- 
sachusetts, and even the old and feeble attended them with what- 
ever means they could spare, and drove to the camp, from hamlet 
and farm, cart loads of provisions, which were bestowed not merely 
without a price, but with a benediction ; the committees of corre- 
spondence in every other colony were actively engaged in preparing 
for the common defence.* 

Meantime, while the British were thus penned up in Boston, an 
adventurous scheme was formed by two determined provincial 
leaders. Colonels Arnold and Allen. Collecting a small body of 
men in Connecticut, they proceeded against tiie fortresses of Crown 
Point and Ticonderoga, the keys of Canada ; those against which 
so many expeditions were planned during the French War. Tra- 
versing, undiscovered, the immense wilderness which then stretched 
across the north of New England, they completely surprised and 
captured, without the loss of a man, both these important places, 

* Doheny's History of the American Revolution. 
23 



178 



LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 



each containing a valuable and much needed supply of military 
stores. Colonel Arnold was equally successful against a sloop of 
war lying at St. John's, and thus obtained the command of Lake 
Champlain, by the capture of the first vessel that ever belonged to 
the American Navy. 




^"""^ — l^v^'^ 



lOsruME or tuk British infa.ktry, 1775. 



AFFAIRS IN VIRGINIA. 



179 




STATE HOUSE ASD CONGRESS HALL, PHILADELPHIA. 



CHAPTER X. 



tz ^fconii Kcm-dafntai ©eri-j-rf^g. 




^■J 



EAN WHILE the alarming state of the 
country, and the prospect of war at no 
very distant day, had led the people of 
^ the different provinces to form various 
!,§ schemes for the defence of their liberties 
and property. In Virginia, they resorted 
^^S^ to the practice pursued by Pennsylvania 
and Maryland during the French war, 
of forming themselves into independ- 
ent companies, throughout the different 
counties, for the purpose of military training, and to secure some 
degree of organization. These companies acted independently of 
each other, choosing their own officers, from the rank of captain 
down. They adopted such uniforms as they pleased, and provided 
themselves with arms, ammunition, drums, and colours. As soon 
as war was apprehended, several of these companies solicited 
Colonel Washington to take them under his command. He always 
acceded to these requests, and aided them materially in procuring 



180 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

equipments, and in perfecting their discipline. On one occasion 
he was very near being brought into an active command of these 
companies. The hasty step of Governor Dunmore, in causing the 
powder to be secretly removed from the magazine in Williamsburg, 
and placed on board one of his majesty's ships in the river, roused 
the indignation, and kindled the martial spirit of the whole colony. 
The independent companies flew instantly to their arms, and 
resolved to march to Williamsburg, and compel the governor, by 
force, to restore the powder.* For this purpose upwards of seven 
hundred men assembled at Fredericksburg; but the governor, 
having promised to arrange the affair to the satisfaction of the peo- 
ple, a council of deputies from the several companies w^as held, in 
which, after much warm discussion, it was resolved that they 
should all return home, but hold themselves in readiness to march 
at any future alarm at a moment's warning. 

In the mean time, the Second Virginia Convention met at Rich- 
mond on the 20th of March. They had scarcely come together 
when Patrick Henry introduced a series of resolutions for putting 
the colony in a state of defence, and for imbodying, arming, and 
disciplining for that purpose a sufficient number of men. The 
boldness of these resolutions caused many of the ablest patriots of 
the province to oppose them. It was in support of them that Henry 
was led to utter that memorable declaration : « We must fight ! I 
repeat it, sir, we must fight ! An appeal to arms and to the God 
of hosts is all that is left us !" The resolutions were carried, and 
Washington was appointed on a committee to report a plan for 
putting them in execution. The former deputies were appointed 
to the Continental Congress, which was summoned to meet on the 
10th of May, except that Thomas Jefferson was substituted for 
Peyton Randolph, in case the latter should not be able to attend. 

Four days after the return of the independent companies from 
Fredericksburg, Colonel Washington left Mount Vernon to attend 
the meeting of the Second Continental Congress ; which assem- 
bled at Philadelphia, on the 10th of May, 1775. Twelve of the 
colonies were represented, and before the close of the session, they 
had the satisfaction of admitting delegates from Georgia, the thir- 
teenth, to a participation in their deliberations. The prudence and 
caution with which these deliberations were conducted, show that 
the object of this justly celebrated council was not an open rupture 
with England. Peyton Randolph was again unanimously chosen 
president, but urgent business soon after requiring his presence 
• Note to Washington's Writings, by Jared Sparks, vol. ii. p. 507. 



ADDRESS TO THE PEOPLE OF ENGLAND. 181 

at home, he was succeeded by John Hancock. Charles Thomson 
was re-elected secretary. 

Early in the session, an official account of the hostilities at Lex- 
ington and Concord, and of the capture of Crown Point and Ticon- 
deroga, was laid before them. Some of the members were unpre- 
pared for so serious a result ; but the majority, seeing no other 
way of preserving their liberties inviolate, urged the necessity of 
defensive operations. Accordingly, on the 26th of May, after stat- 
ing the dangerous and critical situation of the colonies, from the 
attempts to carry into execution, by force, several unconstitutional 
acts of parliament, from the actual hostilities committed in Massa- 
chusetts, and from the large number of troops daily expected, 
with the same hostile views. Congress unanimously determined, 
" that for the express purpose of securing these colonies, and pre- 
serving them in safety, against all attempts to carry said acts into 
execution, by force of arms, the colonies be placed in a state of 
defence." Still, before attempting any active measures, they de- 
termined, though with a few dissentient voices, to make another 
attempt at reconciliation, by a second solemn appeal to the king. 
Nor did they confine themselves to a petition to his majesty ; they 
again addressed the people of Great Britain, and of the province of 
Quebec ; and also sent an address to the inhabitants of Ireland, 
and a letter to those of the island of Jamaica.* 

the king, f they expressed, as strongly as 
ever, their devotion to his person, family, and 
government ; their deep regret at any event 
which could weaken their connection with his 
crown, and their ardent desire for the restoration 
of harmony. 

The address to the people of Great Britain i 
is eminently distinguished for its magnanimity 
and eloquence. Even its opening, which is as 
follows, is remarkable : 

" The Twelve United Colonies, by their Delegates in Con- 
gress, TO the Inhabitants of Great Britain. 

" Friends, countrymen, and brethren, — 

" By these, and by every other appellation that may designate 
the ties which bind us to each other, we entreat your serious 

• Pitkin, vol. i. 330. 

•{• The address to the king was drawn up by Mr. Dickinson. 

+ Said to have been written by R. H. Lee. 

Q 




182 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

attention to this, our second attempt to prevent their dissolution. 
Remembrance of former friendships, pride in the glorious achieve- 
ments of our common ancestors, and affection for the heirs of their 
virtue, have hitherto preserved our mutual connection. But when 
that friendship is violated by the grossest injuries, when the pride 
of ancestry becomes our reproach, and we are no otherwise allied 
than as tyrants and slaves, when reduced to the melancholy alter- 
native of renouncing your favour or our freedom, can we hesitate 
about the choice ? Let the spirit of Britons determine." 

After again recapitulating former injuries, and stating the recent 
acts of hostility by the wanton destruction of their lives, as well 
as property, they seriously ask, " whether the descendants of Bri- 
tons could tamely submit to this? No," they add, "we never 
will, — while we revere the memory of our gallant and virtuous an- 
cestors, we never can surrender those glorious privileges, for which 
they fought, bled, and conquered." 

"Admit," they tell them, " that your fleets and armies can de- 
stroy our towns, and ravage our coasts ; these are inconsiderable 
objects, things of no moment to men whose bosoms glow with the 
ardour of liberty. We can retire beyond the reach of your navy, 
and without any sensible diminution of the necessaries of life, en- 
joy a luxury, M'hich, from that period, you will want, — the luxury 
of being free." 

They again repel the charge of aiming at independence. 

" Our enemies charge us with sedition. In what does it con- 
sist ? In our refusal to submit to unwarrantable acts of injus- 
tice and cruelty .'' If so, show us a period in your history, in which 
you have not been equally seditious. 

"We are accused of aiming at independence; but how is this 
accusation supported ? By the allegations of your ministers, not 
by our actions. Abused, insulted, and contemned, what steps 
have we pursued to obtain redress ? We have carried our dutiful 
petitions to the throne. We have applied to your justice for relief. 
We have retrenched our luxury, and withheld our trade. 

"The advantages of our commerce were designed as a compen- 
sation for your protection : when you ceased to protect, for what 
were we to compensate ? 

" What has been the success of our endeavours ? The clemency 
of our sovereign is unhappily diverted ; our petitions are treated 
with indignity ; our prayers answered by insults. Our applica- 
tion to you remains unnoticed, and leaves us the melancholy 



ADDRESS TO THE PEOPLE OF ENGLAND. 183 

apprehension of your wanting either the will or the power to as- 
sist us. 

<< Even under these circumstances, what measures have we 
taken that betray a desire of independence ? Have we called in 
the aid of those foreign powers, who are the rivals of your gran- 
deur ? When your troops were few and defenceless, did we take 
advantage of their distress, and expel them our towns ? Or have 
we permitted them to fortify, to receive new aid, and to acquire 
additional strength ? 

" Let your enemies and ours persuade you, that in this we 
were influenced by fear, or any other unworthy motive. The lives 
of Britons are still dear to us. They are the children of our pa- 
rents, and an uninterrupted intercourse of mutual benefits had knit 
the bonds of friendship. When hostihties were commenced ; when, 
on a late occasion we were wantonly attacked by your troops, 
though we repelled their assaults, and returned their blows, yet we 
lamented the wounds they obliged us to give ; nor have we yet 
learned to rejoice at a victory over Englishmen. 

" As we wish not to colour our actions, or disguise our thoughts, 
we shall, in the simple language of truth, avow the measures we 
have pursued, the motives upon which we have acted, and our fu- 
ture designs. 

" When our late petition to the throne produced no other effect 
than fresh injuries, and votes of your legislature, calculated to jus- 
tify every severity ; when your fleets and your armies were pre- 
pared to wrest from us our property, to rob us of our liberties or 
our lives ; when the hostile attempts of General Gage evinced his 
designs, we levied armies for our security and defence. When the 
powers vested in the governor of Canada gave us reason to appre- 
hend danger from that quarter, — and we had frequent intimations 
that a cruel and savage enemy was to be let loose upon the de- 
fenceless inhabitants of our frontiers, — we took such measures as 
prudence dictated, or necessity will justify. 

" We possessed ourselves of Crown Point and Ticonderoga ; 
yet, give us leave most solemnly to assure you, that we have not 
lost sight of the object we have ever had in view, — a reconciliation 
with you on constitutional principles, and a restoration of that 
friendly intercourse which, to the advantage of both, we till lately 
maintained." 

After reminding them, that the loss of liberty in America would 
be only a prelude to its loss in Great Britain, they conclude, " A 
cloud hangs over your head and ours, — ere this reaches you, it may 



184 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

probably burst upon us ; let us then (before the remembrance of 
former kindness is obliterated) once more repeat these appellations, 
which are ever grateful to our ears ; let us entreat Heaven to avert 
our ruin, and the destruction that threatens our frit- nds, brethren, 
and countrymen on the other side of the Atlantic." 

The address to the inhabitants of Canada was drawn up by 
Messrs. Jay, Adams, and Deane, and is distinguished by so much 
manliness of sentiment and force of expression, that it is not 
unworthy of a more particular notice in this place. Its general 
tenor is the same as that of the addresses to the people of Ireland 
and the West Indies. "Since the conclusion of the war," its 
writers say, "we have been happy in considering you as fellow- 
subjects; and from the commencement of the present plan for sub- 
jugating the continent, we have viewed you as fellow-sufferers 
with us. As we are both entitled by the bounty of an indulgent 
Creator to freedom, and being })oth devoted by the cruel edicts of 
a despotic administration to common ruin, we perceived the fate 
of the Protestant and Catholic colonies to be strongly linked toge- 
ther, and therefore invited you to join with us in resolving to be 
free, and in rejecting with disdain the fetters of slavery, however 
artfully polished. 

"We most sincerely condole with you on the arrival of that day 
in the course of which tiie sun shall not shine on a single freeman 
in all your extensive dominions. Be assured that your unmerited 
degradation has engaged the most unfeigned pity of your sister 
colonics, and we flatter ourselves you will not, by tamely bearing 
the yoke, suffer that pity to be supplanted by contempt. 

"When hardy attemj)ts are made to deprive men of rights be- 
stowed by the Almighty ; -when avenues are cut through the most 
solemn coni})acts for tlie admission of despotism ; when the plighted 
faith of government ceases to give security to dutiful subjects; and 
when the insiduous stratagems and mananivres of peace become 
more terrible than the; sanguinary operations of war ; it is high 
time for them to assert those rights, and with honest indignation 
oppose the torrent of oppression rushing in upon them." 

After assuring them that the capture of the forts of Ticonderoga 
and Crown Point was only dictated by self-preservation, they- 
strongly represented the subservient condition to which they would 
be reduced by closing with the claims of Great Britain, and con- 
cluded with the following animated expressions : "We yet enter- 
tain hopes of your uniting with us in the defence of our common 
liberty ; and there is yet reason to believe that should we join in 



I 




WASHINGTON MADE COMMANDER-IN-CHIEF. 185 

imploring the attention of our sovereign to the unmerited and un- 
})aralleled oppressions of his American subjects, he will at lengtli 
be undeceived, and forbid a licentious ministry any longer to riot 
in the ruins of the rights of mankind." 

HESE papers, breathing the same ardent love 
of liberty, containing the same dignified sen- 
timents, evincing the same determined pur- 
pose of soul, and the same consciousness of 
the justice of their cause, as those of the 
l^i^ former session ; drawn up in language no 
less bold and energetic on the subject of their 
rights, or less affectionate towards those to 
whom they were addressed, were sent forth 
as a last effort "to accommodate the unhappy disputes between 
Great Britain and her colonies." 

Having issued these addresses, Congress proceeded at once to 
the adoption of such measures as they considered necessary to 
carry into effect their resolution, to put all the colonies in a defen- 
sive position. All the troops within their limits, and acknowledg- 
ing their authority, were now to be called the Continental Army : 
committees were appointed to devise ways and means for raising 
and supporting it, supplying it with arms and stores, and preparitij^r 
regulations for its government. An issue of paper money was 
voted, to the amount of three millions of dollars ; and a resolution 
was passed appropriating five hundred dollars a month, as the pay 
of the commander-in-chief of the Continental Army. The next 
object was considered to be the choice of a commander, and on 
this point, as on a pivot, the liberties of America now rested. 
Hitherto, the enthusiasm of the men had received no check, from 
their ability to calculate the chances, hazards, or duration of a war, 
or to balance against them their own feeble resources and total 
want of military establishments. It is to be supposed that a gene- 
ral, appointed to so precarious and dangerous a command, be his 
experience ever so limited, must see and measure at least the 
apparent difficulties of his situation, and his dim prospect of being 
able to resist, for any length of time, the operations of one of the 
bravest, best disciplined, and best prepared armies in the world. 
The appointment of a commander easily discouraged, or of on*' 
possessing but an ordinary degree of firmness, would iiave been 
irretrievably fatal to the cause. 

There was still another difficulty in the way of selecting a com- 
mander. This difficulty did not arisf Irora the want of ability in 
24 q2 



186 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

the candidates suggested ; but serious apprehensions were enter- 
tained whether any person whom they might select would be 
acceptable to all the colonies. The remarkable weight of talents in 
Virginia, and its wealth and forwardness in the great project, were 
circumstances not to be overlooked, and which pointed to the 
policy, if not the necessity, of securing that powerful province by 
this mark of distinction ; and which of the sons of Virginia was 
more deserving the honour than Colonel Washington ? On the 
other hand, the existing army had been raised wholly by the New- 
England provinces, and to put it under the command of an officer 
of a distant province, was thought to be a delicate and hazardous 
experiment. It was, however, of the utmost importance to secure 
unanimity in the choice, and to unite the whole continent in the 
support of the commander-in-chief. 

Great, therefore, was the relief felt by the members, when John 
Adams, the leading representative of Massachusetts, "in discussing 
the question respecting the army then lying before Boston, made a 
motion that it should be adopted by the continent, and in enforcing 
his motion, said it was his intention to propose for the office of 
commander-in-chief, a gentleman from Virginia, and one of their 
own body. His remarks on the qualifications of this gentleman 
w^ere so pointed, that they were known to apply only to Colonel 
Washington, who, upon hearing this reference to himself, imme- 
diately withdrew. The appointment was deferred to a succeeding 
day, when Washington was nominated by Thomas Johnson, a dele- 
gate from Maryland. The choice was by ballot, and, on counting 
the votes, it was found that he was unanimously elected."* This 
was on the 15th of June, 1775. When the Congress assembled 
the next morning, the president informed him officially that he 
was unanimously chosen by the Continental Congress to be general 
and commander-in-chief of all the forces raised, or to be raised, 
for the defence of the country. 

He immediately arose in his place, and accepted the appointment 
with his usual and characteristic modesty, diffidence, and disinte- 
restedness, in the following address to the president : — " Though I 
am truly sensible of the high honour done me in this appointment, 
yet I feel great distress, from a consciousness that mj- abilities and 
military experience may not be equal to the extensive and import- 
ant trust. However, as the Congress desire it, I will enter upon 
the momentous duty, and exert every power I possess in their 
service, and for the support of the glorious cause. I beg they 

• Note to Washington's Writings, by Sparks, vol. iii. 480, 481. 



II 



MOTIVES OF WASHINGTON. 187 

will accept my most cordial thanks for this distinguished testimony 
of their approbation. 

"But, lest some unlucky event should happen, unfavourable to 
my reputation, I beg it may be remembered by every gentleman in 
the room, that I this day declare, with the utmost sincerity, I do 
not think myself equal to the command I am honoured with. 

"As to pay, sir, I beg leave to assure the Congress, that, as no 
pecuniary consideration could have tempted me to accept this 
arduous employment at the expense of my domestic ease and hap- 
piness, I do not wish to make any profit from it. I will keep an 
exact account of my expenses. Those, I doubt not, they will dis- 
charge ; and that is all I desire." 

" Having thus placed one of their own body, a gentleman of ample 
fortune, and great distinction, in a situation so new, so replete 
\vith difficulties and dangers ; having called him to be principal in 
support of a cause in which, in case of failure, not only his fortune 
but his life, must be the certain forfeiture, those patriots did not 
leave him without the most solemn pledge of their support. With 
his commission, they presented him a resolution, declaring that 
they would maintain him, and assist him, and adhere to him, with 
their lives and Jo rtunes, in the same cause. With respect to instruc- 
tions for the conduct of the commander, in the untried scenes before 
them. Congress could do little more than direct him, as the Roman 
senate formerly did their consuls in times of danger, to take care 
'that the republic should receive no detriment.' In their letter to 
him on this subject, they say: 'And whereas all particulars cannot 
be foreseen, nor positive instructions for such emergencies so be- 
forehand given, but that many things must be left to your prudent 
and discreet management, as occurrences may arise upon the place, 
or from time to time befall you, and therefore, upon all occasions 
that may happen, to use your best circumspection, and advising 
with your coancil-of-war to order and dispose of the army under 
your command, as may be most advantageous for attaining the end 
for which those forces have been raised ; making it your special 
care, in the discharge of the great trust committed unto you, that 
the liberties of America receive no detriment.^ " 

General Washington, with his usual promptness, immediately 

began his preparations to proceed to the seat of war. His private 

opinions and reasons for accepting the command, as well as the 

tender affection which he always felt for his beloved wife, are well 

♦ Pitkin, vol. i. 334, 335, 



188 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

expressed in the following letter to her, dated Philadelphia, June 
18, 1775. 

"My Dearest, — I am now set down to write to you on a sub- 
ject which fills me with inexpressible concern, and this concern is 
greatly aggravated and increased, when I reflect upon the uneasi- 
ness I know it will give you. It has been determined in Congress 
that the whole army raised for the defence of the American cause 
shall be put under my care, and that it is necessary for me to pro- 
ceed immediately to Boston to take upon me the command of it. 

"You may believe me, my dear Patsy, when I assure you, in the 
most solemn manner, that, so far from seeking this appointment, I 
have used every endeavour in my power to avoid it, not only from 
my unwillingness to ])art with you and the family, but from a con- 
sciousness of its being a trust too great for my capacity, and that 
I should enjoy more real happiness in one month with you at home, 
than I have the most distant prospect of finding abroad, if my stay were 
to be seven times seven years. But as it has been a kind of destiny 
that has thrown me upon this service, I shall hope that my under- 
taking it is designed to answer some good purpose. You might, 
and I supjjose did perceive from the tenor of my letters, that I was 
apprehensive I could not avoid this appointment, as I did not pre- 
tend to intimate when I should return. That was the case. It 
was utterly out of my power to refuse this appointment, without 
exposing my character to such censures as would have reflected 
dishonour upon myself, and given pain to my friends. This, I am 
sure, would not, and ought not, to be pleasing to you, and must 
have lessened me considerably in my own esteem. I shall rely, 
therefore, confidently, on that Providence, which has heretofore pre- 
served and been bountifid to me, not doubting but that I shall 
return safe to you in the fall. I shall feel no pain from the toil or 
the danger of the cam])aign ; my unhappiness will flow from the 
uneasiness I know you will feel from being left alone. I therefore 
beg that you will summon your whole fortitude, and pass your 
time as agreeably as possible. Nothing will give me so much sin- 
cere satisfaction as to hear this, and to hear it from your own pen. 
My earnest and ardent desire is, that you would pursue any plan 
that is most likely to produce content, and a tolerable degree of 
tranquillity ; as it must add greatly to my uneasy feelings to hear 
that you are dissatisfied or complaining at what I really could not 
avoid. 

"As life is always uncertain, and common prudence dictates to 
every man the necessity of settling his temporal concerns, while it 



WASHINGTON J I NS TH E A R M Y. 189 

is in his power, and while the mind is cahn and undisturbed, I 
have, since I came to this place, (for I had not time to do it before 
I left home,) got Colonel Pendleton to draft a will for me, by the 
directions I gave him, which will I now enclose ; the provision 
made for you in case of my death will, I hope, be agreeable." 

The Congress afterwards chose Artemas Ward, Charles Lee, 
Philip Schuyler, and Israel Putnam, major-generals, and Horatio 
Gates, adjutant-general. On the 22d of June, they appointed Seth 
Pomeroy, Richard Montgomery, David Wooster, William Heath, 
Joseph Spencer, John Thomas, John Sullivan, and Nathaniel Green, 
brigadier-generals. 

HESE appointments gave universal satisfac- 
tion. General Washington used the utmost 
expedition in preparing to start for the seat of 
war. Before he left Philadelphia he reviewed 
several independent companies of volunteers, 
amounting in all to about two thousand men, 
under arms. One of these companies, a troop 
of light-horse, accompanied him as far as New 
York. He was also accompanied to that city 
by General Schuyler, whom he left there in 
charge of the troops of the province, and by General Lee, who con- 
tinued with him to Cambridge. He was met, at Newark, by a 
committee from the Provincial Congress of New York, and escorted 
by them to that metropolis, where he arrived on the 25th of June. 
An address presented by the New York Congress to Washington, 
on this occasion, was remarkable for its tone of timidity and luke- 
warmness, and for the broad hint contained in its concluding para- 
graph ; as well as for the delicate and a[)propriate answer which it 
drew from Washington ; leading him, as it did, to avow senti- 
ments, at this early period of the war, which were closely adhered 
to throughout its whole progress, and in an especial manner at its 
close. 

The address of the New York Congress contained this para- 
graph : 

" Confiding in you, sir, and in the worthy generals immediately 
under your command, we have the most flattering hopes of success 
in the glorious struggle for American liberty, and the fullest assur- 
ance, that whenever this important contest shall be decided by that 
ibndest wish of each American soul, an accommodation with our 
mother country, you will cheerfully resign the important deposit 




190 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

committed into your hands, and re-assume the character of our 
worthiest citizen." 

The following w^as General Washington's reply : 

« Gentlemen, at the same time that with you I deplore the un- 
happy necessity of such an appointment, as that with which I am 
now honoured, I cannot but feel sentiments of the highest gratitude 
for this affecting instance of distinction and regard. 

" May your every wish be realized in the success of America, at 
this important and interesting period ; and be assured, that every 
exertion of my worthy colleagues and myself will be equally ex- 
tended to the re-establishment of peace and harmony between the 
mother country and the colonies, as to the fatal, but necessary ope- 
rations of war. Wlien we assumed the soldier, we did not lay 
aside the citizen ; and we shall most sincerely rejoice with you in 
that happy hour, when the establishment of American liberty, upon 
ihe most firm and solid foundations, shall enable us to return to 
(Hir private stations in the bpsom of a free, peaceful, and happy 
country." 

On the 26th of June, General Washington departed from New- 
York, under the escort of several military companies, passed the 
night at Kingsbridge, and the next morning proceeded on his jour- 
ney. He arrived at Cambridge on the 2d of July. During the 
whole of this journey, he met with the most flattering attentions 
from the people, as well as the public authorities, of the dis- 
tricts through which he passed. He was continually escorted by 
companies of volunteers ; and at Springfield, a hundred miles from 
Boston, a committee of the Massachusetts Assembly met, and ac- 
(^ompanied him to head-quarters. On his arrival at Watertown, 
where the Provincial Congress of Massachusetts was then sitting, 
an address was presented to him by that body, pledging themselves 
to the most cordial co-operation with his measures. His reply was 
simple and dignified. 

"Gentlemen," said he, "your kind congratulations on my ap- 
pointment and arrival, demand my warmest acknowledgments, and 
will ever be retained in grateful remembrance. In exchanging 
the enjoyments of domestic life for the duties of my present honour- 
able but arduous station, I only emulate the virtue and public spirit 
of the whole province of Massachusetts Bay, which, with a firmness 
and patriotism without example in modern history, has sacrificed 
all the comforts of social and political life, in support of the rights 
of mankind, and the welfare of our common country. My highest 
ambition is to be the happy instrument of vindicating those rights, 



WASHINGTON JOINS THE ARMY, 



191 



and to see this devoted province again restored to peace, liberty, 
and safet}." 

On arriving at the head quarters, at Cambridge, he was wel- 
comed by the troops with joyful acclamations. He found the army, 
consisting of about sixteen thousand men, so disposed as to be- 
leaguer the enemy within Boston ; but they were much distressed 
on account of the necessary munitions of war, and the want of 
subordination manifested by the greater number of them towards 
their officers. He, accordingly, first turned his attention to the 
remedying of these evils, the disciplining of the army, and the 
closer investment of the city. 




COSTCTME OV BRITISH TROOPS. 1775. 



192 



LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 




CHAPTER XI. 



'&itU ©if ^iiiiikier flill 



N the mean time, the spark which had 
been lighted at Lexington, and fanned at 
Concord, had been blown up into a blaz- 
ing fire at Bunker Hill. On the arrival 
of reinforcements from Europe, General 
Gage prepared for more decisive opera- 
tions than he had thought it prudent, pre- 
viously, to attempt. Tn the midst of his 
preparations, he issued a proclamation, as 
a last warning to the people, before a final appeal to arms. He 
placed before them the dread alternative of war or submission ; if 
they still persisted in their rebellion, he would commence a war 
of extermination ; but if they would submit, he offered a free par- 
don to all, for past offences against the government, except Samuel 
Adams and John Hancock, whom he described as " firebrands," 




BATTLE OF BUNKER HILL. 193 

but who were objects of confidence and respect to the American 
people. This proclamation only aroused the Americans to more 
vigorous exertions. Rightly judging that the proclamation was 
the herald of immediate hostility, and regarding it as the last ag- 
gression on their civil liberties, for it contained the promulgation 
of martial law, they boldly prepared for the worst. 

A council of war was called, and the Provincial Congress sug- 
gested to them the great importance to either army of the posses- 
sion of Bunker Hill, a commanding eminence on the north side of the 
peninsula of Charlestown, and nearly opposite to the British camp. 
The council immediately adopted the suggestion, and on the night 
of the sixteenth of June, a detachment of one thousand men, under 
the command of Major Prescot, was ordered to take possession of 
Bunker Hill, and throw up, with the greatest expedition, field 
fortifications for the defence of the position. By some mistake, the 
detachment took up their station on Breed's Hill, another eminence 
to the right, and still nearer to the enemy's lines. Here they be- 
gan their field-works, and so silently and sedulously did they 
labour, that at dawn of day the British were alarmed to discover a 
small redoubt constructed on the brow of the hill, nearly under 
the guns of their vessels. Orders were instantly given to the bat- 
teries and vessels to commence a simultaneous fire upon the works 
and workmen. But this heavy cannonade seemed only to stimu- 
late the young soldiers' activity and zeal ; nor did they pause 
until they had constructed a line of breastwork from the right of 
the redoubt to the bottom of the hill. Towards noon, General 
Gage, finding all his efforts to arrest these formidable preparations 
unavaiHng, determined on dislodging the Americans ; and gave 
orders that two squadrons, under command of Generals Howe and 
Pigot, should undertake that duty. They were landed at More- 
ton's, the north-east point of Charlestown peninsula. To their left 
was the village of that name, consisting of about five hundred 
houses ; in front of them the American works ; and to their right, 
the valley between Breed's and Bunker Hills. Beyond the Ameri- 
cans, the peninsula gradually narrowed till it ended at Charlestown 
neck, at the left of which, as you enter the peninsula, was stationed 
the Glasgow man-of-war ; and, at the right, two floating batteries. 
The Americans continued their works while the British forces 
formed on the shore. Slowly and steadily the latter proceeded up 
the hill, under cover of their guns, which poured into the American 
intrenchments a continuous and destructive fire, pausing occasion- 
25 R 



194 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

ally to give their field-pieces time to play on the newly constructed 
works. Meantime, orders were given by the British general to set 
Charlestown on fire, lest it might serve as a cover for the provin- 
cials. It was built, for the most part, of wood ; suddenly one wild 
flame enveloped the whole town, and, curling high in air, shed its 
unnatural light over the scene of havoc, adding to the heat and suf- 
focation of the sultry summer day. The inhabitants of Boston, the 
unengaged soldiers, the American army from their camp, witnessed 
this terrible spectacle ; but they soon lost all interest in the burning 
houses and temples, to watch the progress of the advancing co- 
lumns, while, amid the roar of cannon, and the glare of the blazing 
town, they moved up the declivity where so many of them were to 
find gory graves. The Americans calmly and unmovedly regarded 
the steady onset of discipline and courage. Major Putnam, a vete- 
ran soldier of the colonies, charged his untrained warriors to with- 
hold their fire until they could distinguish " the whites of their 
assailants' eyes," and then to fire low. Well was that order 
obeyed ; — their first fire was so deadly that the advancing troops 
reeled under the shock, wavered, and suddenly fled. They were 
again rallied by the courage of their officers, and again advanced 
to the charge ; but again the same unerring stream of fire continued 
to pour in upon them from the redoubt and breastwork, until, a 
second time, their lines broke, and they fled precipitately. General 
Clinton seeing this disaster from the camp, and burning with shame 
at the defeat of the British arms, volunteered to lead a fresh detach- 
ment to their aid. His presence once more inspired the British 
officers, and, by wonderful exertions, amounting, in some cases, 
to goading the men, they prevailed upon them again to face those 
terrible and immovable lines. This third attack was even more 
cautious than the others, and the artillery had raked the entire 
length of the breastwork before the troops reached it. By this 
time, the ammunition of its defenders was nearly exhausted ; but 
they reserved their last fire until the enemy was at the works. 
This fire was true and telling as the former, but it had not the same 
effect, for the British soldiers, charging fiercely, attacked the re- 
doubt on three sides, and carried it by storm ; the Americans, who 
had been ordered to retire when their powder was spent, continuing 
to defend it, and dealing death around them with the butt end of 
their muskets, until the redoubt was filled with the enemy. While 
the ground at the redoubt and intrenchments was thus contested 
and won, a detachment of the British right, ordered to turn the 



BATTLE OF BUNKER HILL. 195 

left flank of the Americans, was received by the defenders of that 
pass, where they sheltered themselves with hay, and the rails of a 
fence, hastily thrown together during the early part of the conflict, 
with equal coolness, firmness, and precision of fire. There, too, 
the British troops staggered beneath the well-directed aim of the 
provincials, who retired only from their post of danger when they 
saw the works on the hill abandoned by the main body. Then 
they joined the retreat, and the British remained masters of the 
field of battle. But though the victory was theirs, the retreat of 
their enemy was unmolested, and they were allowed time to form, 
for crossing at their own convenience the terrible passage of the 
Neck, exposed to the double fire of the batteries and the Glasgow 
man-of-war. The British halted on Bunker Hill, where they has- 
tily threw up defences ; and the Americans took their position im- 
mediately opposite them, on Prospect Hill, and began that line of 
fortifications which was never more approached by the attacking 
army. 

The British encamped that evening about a mile in advance of 
their position in the morning ; but dearly did they pay for the ad- 
vantage. Nineteen of their bravest officers, and two hundred and 
twenty-six men lay dead in the disputed way, while eight hundred 
and twenty-eight of the remainder were wounded. Of the Ameri- 
cans, two hundred and seventy-eight were wounded, thirty-six 
missing, and one hundred and thirty-nine slain. Among the latter 
was Doctor Warren, a man whom his country deeply loved, and 
long mourned. He commanded that day for the first time, with 
the rank of major-general, a rank which he only held four days, 
and which was conferred on him for the purity of his patriotism, 
and his eminent abilities. 

The disproportion of killed and wounded will appear still more 
strange, on a comparison of the numbers actually engaged. Al- 
most all accounts agree in stating these numbers thus : — British, 
three thousand ; Americans, one thousand five hundred. 

Although the ground was lost, the Americans claimed the vic- 
tory. Their confidence in themselves was greatly increased, and 
it was universally asked, << How many more such triumphs the 
British army could afford ?" This battle was, in fact, one of the 
most bloody and destructive which we find recorded in the an- 
nals of war. 



196 



LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 




CHAPTER XII. 



IinitaStoE ef ©amalai. 



FTER the capture of Ticonderoga and 
Crown Point by Colonels Allen and 
Arnold, the former returned home, 
leaving Arnold in garrison at Ticon- 
deroga. His impetuous spirit, how- 
ever, ill brooked inactivity, and early 
in June he proposed the bolder design 
of invading the Canadas, which he pro- 
mised to reduce with four thousand 
men. To this proposal Congress re- 
fused then to accede. But the governor of Canada, Sir Guy Carle- 
ton, engaging in active preparations for retaking the forts, and 
the military spirit of the colonies rising with each successive 
event, the invasion of Canada was, two months afterward, voted to 
l)e practicable, just, and necessary. 

Its practicability was based upon the courage and success of 
the provincials ; its justice, on the preparations of Sir Guy Carle- 
ton, which, in the eyes of Congress, amounted to indications of 




INVASION OF CANADA.. 197 

aggressive war, and invasion ; and its necessity, on the overruling 
law of self-preservation. 

The responsibility of the northern expedition devolved on Gene- 
ral Montgomery, who with a thousand men effected a landing at 
St. John's, to which he laid siege. His want of ammunition for- 
bade the hope of speedy success, but succeeding in an attack on 
a small fort, called Chamble, about six miles off, he obtained six 
tons of gunpowder, which enabled him to prosecute the siege with 
vigor. The garrison maintained themselves with great bravery ; 
but learning that the governor, who was marching to their aid 
from Montreal, with eight hundred men, was attacked and routed 
by Colonel Allen, the victor of Crown Point, they surrendered on 
terms of honourable capitulation. Montgomery here obtained 
thirty-nine pieces of cannon, nine mortars, two howitzers, and 
eight hundred stand of arms. During the siege of St. John's, 
Colonel Allen was taken prisoner, on an expedition planned by his 
general, and sent to England, loaded with irons. Montgomery 
hastened from St. John's to Montreal, which was evacuated, on his 
approach, by the few troops stationed there, who, with General 
Prescott, the governor of St. John's, attempted to escape down the 
river, but were captured by some troops and an armed gondola, 
at the junction of the Sorel. One hundred and twenty prisoners 
here surrendered themselves on terms of capitulation. Montgo- 
mery, scarcely delaying to count the immense advantages, in food, 
clothing, and necessaries of all kinds, placed in his hands by the 
evacuation of this rich commercial town, pushed rapidly on, and 
with his small, but victorious army, set down before the capital of 
the province. And here, for the first time, the full extent of his 
difficulties and perils arose upon his hopes, and checked them. 
He was a soldier by profession, accustomed to strict obedience. 
His troops were, for the most part, the champions of liberty, who 
carried into armed service the spirit which animated them to un- 
dertake their country's defence. To them the charm of that ser- 
vice was, that honour and courage were its only obligations ; nor 
would they brook the idea, that, undertaken on those terms, it 
should be prolonged by other authority than their own will. Many 
a time of danger, as well as this, saw the cause for which the colo- 
nists took up arms, reduced to the verge of ruin by a similar spirit ; 
nor was it until after many perilous escapes from a final overthrow, 
that sanguine men, in Congress and out of it, admitted the stern 
necessity of maintaining a regular army for the defence of the 
country. Some, who were engaged for no term, and some whose 

r2 



198 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

term had nearly expired, when unsustained by military movements, 
and exposed to unaccustomed severity of weather, united in claim- 
ing their dismissal from the service ; and the situation of their 
general was rendered precarious and most difficult ; but the genius 
of Montgomery prevailed over greater obstacles. During his brief 
but bright career, he endeavoured to maintain himself without 
once sinking the humanity and honour of the man, in the sternness 
of the hard-set commander. And a daring ally hastening to his 
relief by a route hitherto unattempted by the steps of civilized 
man, was now approaching the colony, from a quarter, in whose 
depths the inhabitants thought that not even the savages shared the 
solitude of the bear and the wolf. 

About the time of Montgomery's invasion, Arnold, at the head of 
one thousand men, left the camp at Cambridge, by the order of 
General Washington, with the design of penetrating Canada by the 
streams of the Kennebec and Chaudiere, and through the inter- 
vening wilderness. In the ascent of the former, they had often to 
land and haul their boats up rocks down which roared the precipi- 
tous river. And when this weary task was done, they but ex- 
changed the labours of the waters for greater labours on the land. 
They had to carve their slow way through forests at the rate of five 
miles a day, to cross deep swamps, and creep over rough crags, 
which it seemed that neither man nor beast ever before clambered. 
Their numbers were daily thinned by sickness and hunger, many 
of them consuming their dogs, shoes, leathern breeches, and car- 
touches. When yet one hundred miles from a human habitation, 
they divided their last remaining stores, which amounted to four 
pints of meal to each man. With thirty miles of yet untrodden 
pathway to march over, they had eaten their last morsel. But in 
this trying journey, they were sustained by the hope of completing 
an enterprise unrivalled, save by the most dazzling achievements 
of the heroes of antiquity. After a march of nearly two months of 
unexampled hardships and difficulty, the Hannibal of the New 
World reached the first inhabited settlement on the borders of the 
Chaudiere, which emptied itself into the St. Lawrence, a few miles 
above Quebec. Here his delay was shorter than required by the 
broken spirits and worn-out energies of his feeble but unshrinking 
band. With the rapidity of ambition did he speed, leaving the 
inhabitants to conjecture whether he had issued from the wilderness 
or descended from the clouds. His welcome and reception were 
in proportion to their wonder and awe ; and he circulated among 
them the proclamations of the commander-in-chief, offering liberty. 



ARNOLD'S MARCH. 199 

security, and peace, should they aid the common object of the 
united colonies. But Arnold relied on sterner agencies than these, 
and his sudden appearance near Quebec caused as much conster- 
nation in the garrison as if his had been an army of demons, so 
little could they calculate upon the approach from that quarter of 
such a foe. Arnold found the town, as he had anticipated, com- 
pletely deserted, the governor being absent, endeavouring to turn 
the storm of war, raging upon another side of the province. The 
mighty river rolled between him and his certain prey, and vessels 
of war, moored in the stream, checked his first bold and prompt 
design of crossing the river, and entering at once the undefended 
gates of Quebec. But the passage would have been attempted in 
the night, were it not for a storm which raged for several days and 
nights, sweeping with angry, but protecting surge, between the 
panting Arnold and the unguarded town. While he was thus 
delayed, the panic in the garrison abated, and Colonel McLean, 
with his Scotch volunteers, threw himself into it to protect its fate, 
or share its fall. Arnold, chafing at further delay, moved his force 
down the river to Wolfe's Cove, and resolved to imitate the daring, 
and share the glory of the hero of that name. At dead of night his 
intrepid band crossed the flood and ascended the precipitous banks 
at the other side. Here a council-of-war was held, in which Arnold 
proposed to storm the town ; but this counsel w^as overruled as 
desperate ; and, after a short delay before the walls, he was obliged 
to retire to a position of greater safety, twenty miles up the river, 
there to await a junction with Montgomery. 

Meantime the governor of Canada arrived in Quebec, and took 
the promptest and most decisive measures for its defence ; so that 
by the time the junction of the two American generals w^as effected, 
it was fully prepared to resist their joint assault. Ere Arnold reluct- 
antly abandoned the storming of Quebec, or retired from its walls, 
he was forced to admit to himself, that all his toil, his waste of 
time and treasure, and the stupendous undertaking he had accom- 
plished, had been in vain. He sighed to think, that the storm 
which averted from the city his long collected blow, or being a day 
or two behind the propitious time, should interpose between him 
and his crowning fame, and give to Quebec and Canada a different 
destiny. But thus does fortune play with the prospects of the 
wisest and the boldest. The spirit of Arnold was not, however, to 
be depressed by this mischance. He warmly seconded Montgo- 
mery's prompt resolution of investing Quebec ; a resolution at once 
executed. But Quebec was defended by superior resources and a 



200 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

valor equal to their own. Sir Guy Carleton was a man of great 
daring and the sagest prudence. By his presence and virtue he 
infused his own indomitable spirit into the bosoms of all the inha- 
bitants ; and every day the siege was continued gave fresh proofs 
of the strength and security of his position. The besiegers, fearing 
delay, and sorely urged by the season, the climate, and the uncer- 
tainty of the service subordinate to their authority, resolved to 
risk the storming of the garrison at every hazard. That attempt 
was made at five o'clock in the morning, on the last day of the 
year, their forces being divided into four parties, the two principal 
of which were led in person by Montgomery and Arnold. A heavy 
snow-storm enveloped besiegers and besieged, amid the fury of 
which the devoted bands and their gallant leaders groped their 
way to the destined points of attack. These were, for the two main 
divisions, the two opposite sides of the lower town — Montgomery 
choosing that around Cape Diamond, by the banks of the river, 
which was guarded by an outpost. The pathway leading to this 
post was narrow and difficult, being under the steep precipices, 
and covered by large masses of ice, washed in upon it by the 
overgorged river. Along this the storming party advanced with 
extreme difficulty in single file, and the general himself leading the 
way, had more than once to halt for those that followed. Reaching 
the outpost, its guards, after a few random shots, fled to the battery; 
but being in advance of his men, the general again halted to give 
time to his followers to collect, and as soon as about two hundred 
were collected, he rushed forward, animating them by his voice and 
example, when one of the sentinels who had fled, astonished at 
the delay, returned to his post, and slowly applying a match to a 
gun mounted there, fired it without any immediate design. This 
single and chance shot decided the fate of the assault ; its first victim 
was General Montgomery. He fell dead where he stood ; and two 
young and gallant officers who shared his peril and daring, shared 
also his untimely fate. Colonel Campbell, on whom devolved the 
command, hesitated to advance ; and the troops, whom no danger 
could deter, when following their beloved general, seeing him lying- 
dead, retraced their steps with confusion and consternation. 
Arnold, to whom this disaster was unknown, approached the 
opposite battery, along the suburb of St. Rogers, about the same 
time. He, too, found all in readiness to meet him, and in 
assaulting the first battery, received a wound and retired to have 
it dressed. The battery was, however, taken, and Captain Morgan, 
of the Virginia riflemen, who were leading the assault, was called 



ASSAULT UPOx\ QUEBEC. 201 

on by a unanimous shout to assume the command and rush forward. 
That dauntless officer accepted with eagerness the post of danger 
and of honour ; at the same moment, Lieutenant Anderson, issuing 
from the gate, with the view of attacking the Americans, who were 
supposed to be plundering the exposed part of the town, challenged 
Captain Morgan, and received a ball through his head from Morgan's 
hand in reply. His troops fell back and closed the gate. The 
besiegers instantly scaling the wall, saw inside a large force, with 
their guns fixed to the earth, ready to receive any who descended 
on their bayonets, and at the same time a most destructive fire 
was poured upon them from windows and port-holes, beneath 
which they retired into the stone houses outside the barrier, where 
the dawning day discovered them endeavouring to answer, but 
ineffectually, the terrible fire from the barrier and surrounding 
posts. To appear even an instant outside their precarious shelter 
was certain death ; and so depressed were the men by defeat, dis- 
aster, and cold, that they refused to attempt a retreat in the face of 
the murderous barrier. Meantime, troops issuing from another 
gate made their rear-guard prisoners, and completely surrounded 
them. But, even in this situation, the resolution which still upheld 
the American leaders, prompted the desperate attempt of cutting 
their way, sword in hand, through the town backwards. While 
preparing, however, for this last enterprise, they were entirely 
encompassed, and surrendered prisoners of war. Many officers 
of this detachment were killed, and all the rest, including the 
intrepid Morgan, except a few who accompanied Arnold, were 
taken prisoners. Thus ended this assault upon Quebec, which 
many have described as rash and desperate, but which all admit 
to be one of the most gallant upon record. Its failure supplies the 
readiest proof that it was ill-advised and unmilitary ; but if, as it 
is on the other hand averred, the shot which deprived the army of 
its general was a random one, discharged by a trembling hand at 
a forsaken post, success might have changed the reasoning, and 
generated a host of critics, stout to assert that the enterprise was 
as wisely and surely planned as it was daring and chivalrous. 

Upon Arnold's camp, the new year opened with gloomy pros- 
pects ; yet, himself badly wounded, the army dispirited by defeat 
and suffering, his bravest chiefs dead or captured, and the winter 
dosing around him with its frozen terrors, he did not hesitate to 
prosecute boldly the blockade. And the distress to which he re- 
duced the garrison, which once or twice barely escaped falling 
into his hands, ere he was superseded in command, proves that his 
26 



202 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

energy was indomitable, and his operations those of a consummate 
military genius. 

But in all that surrounded it of gloom and horror, in this season 
of snow and storms, nothing pressed so heavily on the American 
army as the fate of their too gallant general. No thought had they 
for calculating harshness in judging the enterprise which cost his 
life. And indeed, if want of foresight, to any extent, dimmed the 
lustre of that stupendous undertaking, it was amply redeemed by 
his personal contempt for danger, and his chivalrous fall. Nor 
does it well become the nation on whose arms victory smiled, to 
insult his memory on this ground ; for, had he lived to divide 
their strength, or share in the encounter, history may be compelled 
to restrict the praises which British valour justly claims from the 
triumph of that eventful day. Nor was the voice of unkind criti- 
cism much heeded by the generous ear. No man fell in, or per- 
haps survived the war, save one, to whose virtue and courage so 
large and liberal a tribute of homage was offered, of hearty admi- 
ration by his enemies, of deepest mourning by his adopted country. 
His monument, the first voted by Congress, attests the es^timation 
in which they held his eminent services, his purity, and his genius. 
But, perhaps, the most solid testimony to his worth and valour 
was, the cheer which echoed through the British senate when the 
baffled minister "cursed his virtues for having undone his coun- 
try." 

Let us not pass to other subjects without doing justice to the 
humanity and clemency of Sir Guy Carleton, and the garrison of 
Quebec. The prisoners who fell into their hands, and the wounded 
who were left to their mercy, were treated with the kindest solici- 
tude, and most delicate respect. Whether in the hour of danger 
or of triumph, the garrison never lost sight of the honourable duties 
which brave men ever discharge towards those whom the chances 
of war deliver into their power. 

The fate of the northern army claimed the early and anxious 
care of the commander-in-chief, and of Congress. The largest 
supplies that could be afforded were generously voted to its com- 
mand. Nor was the hope abandoned, even yet, of arousing in the 
breasts of Canadians the love of liberty, and a community of pur- 
pose with the other states. Franklin, then the literary star of the 
continent, arrived on this mission with two able coadjutors, having 
means and authority to establish a free press. But the task of 
thoroughly conciliating a province with different habits, tastes, and 
religion, and a priesthood averse to the union, was then hopeless ; 



REFLECTIONS ON THE CAMPAIGN. 



203 



or the spirit that could accomplish it was hushed for ever. For- 
tune's current was turned backwards. The army, though greatly 
reinforced, was unable to maintain itself against the still more 
numerous army now hotly pressing it, and commanded by the 
accomplished soldier who saved Quebec. Advantages of a trifling 
character were occasionally gained by the continental troops ; but 
a series of reverses, thickening upon their scattered forces, and 
increasing their difficulties at every step, with a victorious army 
hovering in their rear, compelled them, early in the summer, to 
evacuate the province, and abandon an expedition from which so 
much w^as hoped, and w^hich, at one time, was justly regarded as 
nearly crowned with success. 




3ENSRAI, MONTGOMERY. 



204 



LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 




H E A D ■ y n A K X 3 R 3 AT O i M B R I D G E 



CHAPTER XIII. 



^iege &nh HeHjacniaitisn of ^iogtoju. 



HEN General Washington arrived at Cam- 
bridge, on the 2d of July, he found a mixed 
muhitude of people there, under very little 
discipline, order, or government ; the enemy 
in possession of Bunker Hill, on Charles- 
town Neck, strongly intrenched, and forti- 
; fying themselves. He found part of the 
Continental Army on Winter and Prospect 
^^ Hills, about a mile and a quarter from the 
enemy on Bunker Hill, in a very insecure 
state ; another part at the village of Cam- 
bridge, which he made his head-quarters; and a third part at Rox- 
bury, guarding the passage in and out of Boston. He immediately 
began to throw up lines of defence at these places, for the double 
])urpose of securing his troops from any attempts of the enemy, and 




STATE OF THE AMERICAN ARMY. 205 

cutting off all communication between the latter and the surround- 
ing country. The enemy's strength, including marine forces, was 
estimated at about twelve thousand ; that of the Americans, present 
and fit for duty, thirteen thousand seven hundred, or including the 
sick and absent on leave, sixteen thousand seven hundred. With 
this number, Washington had to guard a semicircle of eight or 
nine miles, to. every part of which he found it necessary to be 
equally attentive ; whilst the enemy, situated as it were in the 
centre of the semicircle, and having the entire command of the 
water, could bend their whole force against any one part with equal 
facility. Several circumstances, however, concurred to render the 
American forces very inadequate to active operations. Many of 
the soldiers were ill-provided with arms, particularly with bayonets ; 
and the general soon became acquainted with the alarming fact, 
that the quantity of powder in the camp would only supply nine 
rounds to each man. Much distress was also occasioned by the 
want of tents and clothing." The urgency and continuance of these 
wants were increased by causes which General Washington thus 
stated in a letter to Congress : "I should be extremely deficient in 
gratitude as well as justice, if I did not take the first opportunity 
to acknowledge the readiness and attention which the Congress 
and different committees have shown to make every thing as con- 
venient and agreeable as possible ; but there is a vital and inherent 
principle of delay incompatible with military service in transacting 
business through such various and different channels. I esteem it 
my duty, therefore, to represent the inconvenience that must una- 
voidably ensue from a dependence on a number of persons for sup- 
plies, and submit it to the consideration of Congress whether the 
public service will not be best promoted by appointing a commis- 
sary-general for that purpose." 

The fact that no such officer had been appointed, and that the 
army wanted a paymaster and a quarter-master-general, will give 
some idea of the labours and difficulties to which the general was 
subjected. The want of arms and ammunition was one which it 
was extremely difficult to supply. A successful voyage was, how- 
ever, made to the coast of Africa, where every pound of gunpowder 
for sale in the British factories was purchased, and a magazine was 
seized in the island of Bermudas. 

The absolute importance of a maritime force now began to be 
extensively felt throughout the country, and this sentiment was 
daily increased by the aggressions of British ships of war, whose 
commanders had received orders from the king to proceed against 

S 



206 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

any sea-port towns where troops might be raised, or military works 
erected. Under these directions, a small naval force arrived be- 
fore Falmouth, in Maine, commanded by Captain Mowatt, who, on 
his arrival, gave notice that he was directed to burn every sea-port 
town between Boston and Halifax,* and demanded of the inhabit- 
ants all their arms and ammunition, and four of their citizens as 
hostages. This order being of course refused, a furious cannonade 
and bombardment was commenced, by which the whole town was 
speedily reduced to ashes. This brutal measure may be said to 
have originated the American navy. Ships of war were imme- 
diately fitted out, and, at the urgent suggestion of General Wash- 
ington, courts were established to take cognisance of prizes, whose 
proceedings were conducted on the soundest principles of interna- 
tional law.f 

In September, 1775, a committee of Congress was appointed, 
who repaired to head-quarters for the purpose of consulting with 
the commander-in-chief " on the most effectual method of continu- 
ing, supporting, and regulating the army." On their return, it 
was determined by Congress, that the new army, intended to lie 
before Boston, should consist of twenty thousand three hundred 
and seventy-two men, whose officers were to be raised chiefly from 
the troops already stationed there. There was one result of the 
report of this committee, and the deliberations of the Congress 
upon it, which, for years, entailed the most pernicious and embar- 
rassing effects, and which was nearly fatal to the cause of Ameri- 
can independence. 

The members of this body had suddenly sprung into political 
importance. Their practical knowledge of the means of conduct- 
ing a war was, in general, as scanty as their notions of political 
justice, and their spirit of freedom and patriotism were exemplary. 
Their caution, as was natural, increased with the peril of their 
cause, until, in this particular instance, it realized the proverbial 
effect of fear, by creating a danger almost as serious as any which 
it strove to avoid. The example of a Cromwell, afforded by the 
annals of their ancestors, and of a host of military despots, sup- 
plied by universal history, inspired in their minds a fear, lest, hav- 
ing thrown off the restraints of the parent government, their liber- 
ties should fall a prey to the ambition of a military faction, whose 
power would unquestionably exceed that of any other portion of 
the community. After the ample opportunities they had had of 

* No orders were issued by the British ministry for the destruction of these towns, 
•j- See Washington's Writings, vol. iii. 155. 



ENLISTMENT FOR A YEAR. 207 

acquainting themselves with the character of Washington, it is 
next to impossible that these fears should have had reference to 
him ; certain it is, however, that they extensively prevailed, and 
dictated the measure which perpetually thinned the numbers, and 
relaxed the discipline of their army. This great error consisted 
in enlisting soldiers — not for the duration of the war, but — for the 
term of one year only. Its lamentable consequences will be seen 
hereafter. 

As soon as the measure was determined on, the general issued 
his orders, that all officers who intended to decline the further ser- 
vice of their country at the expiration of the term for which they 
were engaged, should signify their intentions, in writing, to their 
respective colonels; and "those brave men and true patriots who 
resolved to continue to serve and defend their brethren, privileges, 
and property," were also requested to signify their intentions in 
the same manner. 

But the comparative inactivity of the array, as it lay before Bos- 
ton, engaged in strengthening its position, with now and then an 
inconsiderable skirmish, allowed time for that ardor to cool, which 
had been so gloriously evinced at Lexington and Bunker Hill. 
Many were unwilling to continue in the service after the brief term 
of their first enlistment. Some consented under inadmissible con- 
ditions ; while some suspended their decision. 

The general, therefore, repeated his orders for an explicit and 
unconditional declaration. " The times," said he, " and the im- 
portance of the great cause we are engaged in, allow no time for 
hesitation and delay. When life, liberty, and property are at stake ; 
when our country is in danger of being a melancholy scene of blood- 
shed and desolation ; when our towns are laid in ashes, and inno- 
cent women and children driven from their peaceful habitations, 
exposed to the rigor of an inclement season, to depend, perhaps, 
on the hand of charity for support ; — when calamities like these 
are staring us in the face, and a brutal, savage enemy (more so 
than ever was found in a civilized nation) are threatening us, and 
every thing we hold dear, with destruction from foreign troops, it 
little becomes the character of a soldier to shrink from danger, and 
condition for new terms. It is the general's intention to indulge 
both officers and soldiers who compose the new array, with fur- 
loughs, for a reasonable tirae ; but this raust be done in such a 
manner as not to injure the service, or weaken the array too much 
at once." 

In this state of things, several officers, supposing that commis- 



208 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

sions and rank might depend on recruiting men, began, without 
permission, to enlist soldiers to serve particularly under them. 
This practice it was necessary to stop. All further enlistments 
under particular officers were forbidden, till directions to that effect 
should be given. "Commissions in the army," say the orders, 
'<■ are not intended for those who can raise the most men, but for 
such gentlemen as are most likely to deserve them. The general 
would not have it even supposed, nor our enemies encouraged to 
believe, that there is a man in his army (except a few under par- 
ticular circumstances) who will require to be twice asked to do 
what his honour, his personal liberty, the welfare of his country, 
and the safety of his family, so loudly demand of him. Where 
motives powerful as these, conspire to call men into service, and 
when that service is rewarded with higher pay than private soldiers 
ever yet received in any former war, the general cannot, nor will 
not, until convinced to the contrary, harbour so despicable an 
opinion of their understanding and their zeal for the cause, as to 
believe they will desert it." 

At the same time that General Washington urged these appeals 
upon the troops, he communicated his sentiments w4th equal earn- 
estness to Congress. 

" The disadvantages," he observed, '< attending the limited en- 
listment of troops are too a})parent to those who are eye-witnesses 
of them, to render any animadversions necessary ; but to gentlemen 
at a distance, whose attention is engrossed by a thousand important 
objects, the case maybe otherwdse. That this cause precipitated the 
fate of the brave, and much-to-be-lamented General Montgomery, 
and brought on the defeat which followed thereupon, I have not 
the most distant doubt ; for had he not been apprehensive of the 
troops leaving him at so important a crisis, but continued the 
blockade of Quebec, a capitulation, from the best accounts I have 
been able to collect, must inevitably have followed. And that w^e 
were not at one time obliged to dispute these lines, under disad- 
vantageous circumstances, proceeding from the same cause, to 
wit, the troops disbanding of themselves before the militia could 
be got in, is to me a matter of w^onder and astonishment, and 
proves, that General Howe was either unacquainted with our situa- 
tion, or restrained by his instructions from putting any thing to 
hazard, till his reinforcements should arrive. 

" The instance of General Montgomery (I mention it because it 
is a striking one, for a number of others might be adduced) proves, 
that, instead of having men to take advantage of circumstances, 



ENLISTMENT FOR A YEAR. 209 

you are in a manner compelled, right or wrong, to make circum- 
stances yield to a secondary consideration. Since the 1st of De- 
cember, (upwards of two months previously,) I have been devising 
every means in my power to secure these encampments ; and 
though I am sensible that we never have, since that period, been 
able to act upon the offensive, and at times not in a condition to 
defend, yet the cost of marching home one set of men, bringing 
in another, the havoc and waste occasioned by the first, the repairs 
necessary for the second, with a thousand incidental charges and 
inconveniences which have arisen, and which it is scarcely possi- 
ble either to recollect or describe, amount to nearly as much as 
the keeping up a respectable body of troops the whole time, ready 
for any emergency, would have done. To this may be added, 
that you never can have a well-disciplined army. 

" To bring men to be well acquainted with the duties of a sol- 
dier, requires time. To bring them under proper discipline and 
subordination, not only requires time, but is a work of great diffi- 
culty, and, in this army, where there is so little distinction be- 
tween officers and soldiers, requires an uncommon degree of 
attention. To expect, then, the same service from raw and un- 
disciphned recruits, as from veteran soldiers, is to expect what 
never did, and perhaps never will happen. Men who are fami- 
liarized to danger, meet it without shrinking; whereas, troops 
unused to service often apprehend danger where no danger is. 
Three things prompt men to a regular discharge of their duty in 
time of action ; natural bravery, hope of reward, and fear of pun- 
ishment. The two first are common to the untutored, and the dis- 
ciplined soldier ; but the last most obviously distinguishes the one 
from the other. A coward, when taught to believe, that, if he 
breaks his ranks and abandons his colours, he will be punished 
with death by his own party, will take his chance against the 
enemy ; but a man who thinks little of the one, and is fearful of 
the other, acts from present feelings, regardless of the conse- 
quences. 

" Again, men of a day's standing will not look forward ; and 
from experience we find, that, as the time approaches for their 
discharge, they grow careless of their arms, ammunition, and 
camp utensils. Nay, even the barracks themselves have felt un- 
common marks of w^anton depredation, and lay us under fresh 
trouble and additional expense in providing for every fresh set, 
when we find it next to impossible to procure such articles as are 
absolutely necessary, in the first instance. To this must be added, 
27 s2 



210 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

the seasoning which new recruits must have to a camp, and the 
loss consequent thereupon. But this is not all. Men engaged for 
a short and limited time only, have the officers too much in their 
power ; for, to obtain a degree of popularity in order to induce a 
second enlistment, a kind of familiarity takes place, which brings 
on a relaxation of discipline, unlicensed furloughs, and other in- 
dulgences incompatible with order and good government ; by 
which means the latter part of the time for which the soldier was 
engaged is spent in undoing what you were aiming to inculcate 
in the first. 

" To go into an enumeration of all the evils we have expe- 
rienced in this late great change of the army, and the expenses in- 
cidental to it, to say nothing of the hazard we have run, and must 
run, between the discharging of one army and the enlistment of 
another, unless an enormous expense of militia is incurred, would 
greatly exceed the bounds of a letter. What I have already taken 
the liberty of saying, will serve to convey a general idea of the 
matter ; and therefore I shall, with all due deference, take the 
freedom to give it as my opinion, that, if the Congress have any 
reason to believe that there will be occasion for troops another 
year, and consequently for another enlistment, they would save 
money, and have infinitely better troops, if they were, even at a 
bounty of twenty, thirty, or more dollars, to engage the men al- 
ready enlisted till January next, and such others as may be wanted 
to complete the establishment, for and during the war. I will not 
undertake to say that the men can be had upon these terms ; but 
I am satisfied that it will never do to let the matter alone, as it 
was last year till the term of service was near expiring. The 
hazard is too great, in the first place ; in the next, the trouble and 
perplexity of disbanding one army, and raising another at the same 
instant, and in such a critical situation as the last was, are scarcely 
in the power of words to describe, and such as no man who has 
experienced them once will ever undergo again. 

"If Congress should differ from me in sentiment upon this point, 
1 have only to beg that they will do me the justice to believe, that 
I have nothing more in view, than what to me appears necessary 
to advance the public weal, although, in the first instance, it will 
be attended with a capital expense." 

The semblance of inactivity which General Washington was 
compelled to preserve while blockading Boston, was matter of con- 
siderable annoyance to him, anxious as he was, by some great 
exploit, to show himself worthy of the honourable post to which he 



DESTITUTION OF THE ARMY. 211 

had been advanced. As the winter approached, the army suffered 
severely for want of fuel, clothes, and provisions. The period of 
enlistment was drawing to a close, and recruits came in but slowly 
to occupy the places of those who insisted upon returning home. 
Some discontent prevailed, at what was considered the sluggish- 
ness and undue caution of the commander-in-chief, in permitting 
the enemy to remain so long unmolested. Under these painful 
circumstances, the general wrote to the Congress, in terms which 
will convey some idea of their incapacity to conduct a war : 

"It gives me great pain," he said, "to be obliged to solicit the 
attention of the honourable Congress to the state of this army, in 
terms which imply the slightest apprehension of being neglected. 
But my situation is inexpressibly distressing, to see the winter fast 
approaching upon a naked army, the time of their service within a 
few weeks of expiring, and no provision yet made for such important 
events. Added to these, the military chest is totally exhausted ; 
the paymaster has not a single dollar in hand ; the commissary- 
general he assures me has strained his credit for the subsistence of 
the army to the utmost. The quarter-master-general is precisely 
in the same situation ; and the greater part of the troops are in a 
state not far from mutiny, upon the deduction from their stated 
allowance. I know not to whom I am to impute this failure ; but I 
am of opinion, if the evil is not immediately remedied, and more 
punctuality observed in future, the army must absolutely break up. 
I hoped I had so fully expressed myself on this subject, both by 
letter, and those members of the committee who honoured the camp 
with a visit, that no disappointment could possibly happen. I 
therefore hourly expected advice from the paymaster, that he had 
received a fresh supply in addition to the two hundred and seventy- 
two thousand dollars delivered to him in August ; and thought 
myself warranted to assure the public creditors, that in a few days 
they should be satisfied. But the delay has brought matters to 
such a crisis as admits of no farther uncertain expectation. I have 
therefore sent off this express with orders to make all possible de- 
spatch. It is my most earnest request, that he may be returned 
with all possible expedition, unless the honourable Congress have 
already forwarded what is so indispensably necessary." 

The innumerable difficulties under which General Washington 
was compelled to labour, by the culpable neglect, or too great cau- 
tion of Congress, are thus succinctly stated by Monsieur Guizot in 
his introduction to the translation of Washington's writings into 
French. "From the first," he says, "the task of Washington lay 



212 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

before him in all its extent and its complexity. To carry on the 
war, he not only had to create an army ; for, however difficult such 
an operation must at all times be, there the creative power was 
itself wanting; the United States were as destitute of a government 
as of an army. The Congress, a mere phantom, a delusive point 
of union, had no right and no power to act, and neither dared nor 
did any thing. Washington, from his camp, was obUged, not only 
unceasingly to solicit support, but to suggest to Congress what 
was required to be done in order to accomplish its work, and to 
prevent both Congress and the army from becoming a mere dead 
letter. His letters were read in the House, and formed the subject 
of their debates, but those debates were characterized by inexperi- 
ence, timidity, and mistrust. Promises and pretences were all 
that could be obtained : matters were referred to the local govern- 
ments ; and the power of the army was an object of constant dread. 
Washington replied respectfully, obeyed orders, and then insisted 
to demonstration upon the fallacy of pretences, and the necessity of 
supporting by real power that titular authority with which they had 
invested him, and that army to which they looked for victory. Men 
of intellect, courage, and devotion to the cause, were not wanting 
in that Assembly, however unaccustomed to govern it had hitherto 
been. Some of them visited the camp, saw with their own eyes, 
conversed with Washington, and brought back with them, on their 
return, the authority of their own observations and of his advice. 
The Assembly became better informed, more resolute, more confid- 
ing in its resources and in the general of its choice. The mea- 
sures he required were passed ; the powers he needed were con- 
ferred upon him. He then entered into correspondence and nego- 
tiation with the local governments, with the local assembhes, with 
committees, with magistrates, with private citizens, pointing out 
facts to their observation, calling upon their good sense and pa- 
triotism, turning his own private friendships to the advantage of 
the public service, carefully avoiding all umbrage to the spirit of 
democracy or the sensitiveness of personal vanity, preserving his 
rank, speaking with authority, but without offence, and with the 
persuasiveness of moderation : wonderfully skilled in ruling men 
by their sense of what was right and virtuous, whilst he observed 
the most prudent treatment of the frailties of human nature. 

"But when he had succeeded thus far ; when first the Congress, 
and afterwards the different states had given him the materials of 
an army, his task was yet unaccomplished ; the work of war was 
scarcely begun, the army itself not yet in existence. Here, again, 



THE GOVERNMENT AND THE ARMY. 213 

he was met by complete inexperience, by the same absence of 
unity, the same passion for individual independence, the same 
conflict between patriotic intentions, and anarchical propensities. 
Here, again, he had to rally the most discordant elements, to hold 
together elements which threatened immediate dissolution, to in- 
struct, to persuade, to act by every means of precaution and of 
influence, to obtain, in short, without compromising his dignity or 
his power, the moral support and free co-operation of his officers, 
and even of his soldiers. 

"Then first could Washington act as a general, and turn his 
thoughts to the conduct of the war ; say rather, that during the war 
itself, amidst its incidents, its chances, and its perils, he had con- 
stantly to recommence in the country, as well as in the army, the 
laborious task of organizing and directing the administration." 

Washington had, early in the autumn, called the attention of 
Congress to the imminent danger which threatened the army, in 
consequence of the troops having enlisted but for one year, which 
term would expire at the end of December. A committee was 
accordingly appointed to repair to head-quarters to provide for the 
enlistment of the army for the year 1776. They found, at the 
expiration of the year, the names of only nine thousand, six hundred 
and fifty soldiers on the general's muster-roll. In consequence of 
their exertions, the numbers were increased by accessions from the 
militia to seventeen thousand. This dissolution of one army and 
the assemblage of another, in the face of a superior enemy, placed 
the commander-in-chief in a critical situation. In allusion to this 
he wrote to Congress : — "It is not in the pages of history, perhaps, 
to furnish a case like ours — to maintain a post within musket-shot 
of the enemy for six months together without powder ; and, at the 
same time, to disband one army and recruit another within that dis- 
tance of twenty odd British regiments, is more, probably, than was 
ever attempted. But if we succeed as well in the last as we have 
heretofore in the first, I shall think it the most fortunate event of my 
whole life." 

Though the centre of resistance to British encroachments was 
in New England, it extended to the other colonies, as we have 
already incidentally mentioned. Virginia, from the first, had 
taken a prominent part. Lord Dunmore, the governor, soon for- 
feited his popularity, by his eflforts against the colonists ; and their 
resentment was heightened by ministers laying before parliament 
some letters, in which he mentioned their proceedings with ex- 
treme bitterness. Then attempting to remove some pow^der on 



214 



LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 



board of a vessel in the harbour, he was compelled to restore it, 
and take refuge himself on shipboard. Finding his power on the 
continent entirely at an end, he endeavoured to restore it by partial 
and detached landings, with inadequate forces, which only irri- 
tated, without overawing. He had then recourse to the extreme 
measure of not only summoning all capable of bearing arms to join 
his standard, but offering liberty to all slaves who should follow 
their example ; a step tending to exasperate the proprietary 
classes. Having thus, however, collected a small force, he took 
possession of Norfolk, the principal port of Virginia. The provin- 
cials assembled a considerable body of troops, and assumed a for- 
tified position on the river Elizabeth ; while the English were in- 
trenched on the opposite bank. Captain Fordyce, sent to dislodge 
them, advanced briskly to the attack, but was warmly received 
both in front and flank, and his column retreated, though without 
being pursued. Lord Dunmore was then obliged to retire on board 
the vessels, where he was still annoyed by discharges from the 
houses nearest the water. He effected a landing, set them on fire, 

and the whole town was soon re- 
duced to ashes. Dunmore, how- 
ever, being unable to make any 
serious impression, or even to pro- 
cure provisions, sailed to the West 
Indies, where he left the negroes, 
and proceeded to join the main 
army. 

Governor Martin, in North Caro- 
lina, was involved in similar contro- 
versies with the provincial conven- 
tion, which also led to his retire- 
ment on board a ship of war. In 
the interior, however, a number of 
Highlanders, recently emigrated 
from Scotland, were mustered by 
General McDonald, who was at first 
master of the field, but allowed him- 
self to be amused by Colonel Moore, 
the opposite commander, till the 
country had risen around him. He 
then attempted a retreat, but was 
forced into action ; several of the 
best officers, and many of the pri- 




HIOHI.AND OFFICER. 



TREATMENT OF PRISONERS. 215 

vate soldiers, were brought down in the first onset by the American 
rifles, and the rest fled in confusion. 

Lord William Campbell, governor of South Carolina, was equally 
obliged to seek security on shipboard, and joined Martin in the 
vicinity of Cape Fear. 

Governor Tryon, also, at New York, betook himself to a similar 
refuge, but still retained command of the harbour, and preserved 
an intercourse with the numerous loyalists in that quarter. 

Governors Eden and Franklin, in Maryland and New Jersey, 
contrived to maintain their places, but not to exercise any juris- 
diction. 

In the mean time, General Washington, before Boston, was in- 
formed that the prisoners taken by Governor Gage were treated by 
him in the most cruel and insulting manner. He affected to con- 
sider them as rebels and traitors, who had taken up arms against 
their king without cause, and without justice. Accordingly, when 
they fell into his hands, he treated them as felons, throwing them 
into the common prison, and making no distinction between the 
officers and soldiers, the dangerously wounded and unwounded. 
General Washington immediately wrote to him, deprecating such 
a course, and threatening retaHation. 

"Let your opinion, sir, of the principle which actuates them," 
he says, « be what it may, they suppose that they act from the no- 
blest of all principles, — a love of freedom and their country. My 
duty now makes it necessary," he continues, «<to apprize you, that, 
for the future, I shall regulate all my conduct towards those gen- 
tlemen who are or may be in our possession, exactly by the rule 
you shall observe towards those of ours now in your custody. If 
severity and hardship mark the line of your conduct, painful as it 
may be to me, your prisoners will feel its effects. But, if kind- 
ness and humanity are shown to ours, I shall with pleasure con- 
sider those in our hands only as unfortunate, and they shall receive 
from me that treatment to which the unfortunate are ever en- 
titled." 

General Gage, in his answer, denied the charge of cruelty or 
barbarity, but acknowledged that the prisoners were lodged indis- 
criminately, << for," says he, "I acknowledge no rank that is not 
derived from the king." Washington replied, but not producing 
the desired effect, he resolved to adopt the same mode of treatment 
towards the British prisoners in his hands. Accordingly, he gave 
orders that the officers at Watertown and Cape Ann, who were pri- 
soners, should be removed to Northampton, and confined in the 



216 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

jail in that town, along with the other prisoners. This order was 
obeyed, so far as related to the removal, but Washington could 
not bring his mind to an act so cruel and harsh as their imprison- 
ment would appear to be, and the next day, by his secretary, wrote 
to the committee of Northampton, requiring them to allow the offi- 
cers, on their parole, to enjoy the liberty of walking about the 
town. 

When the command of the British forces devolved upon Gene- 
ral Howe, he adopted a milder course towards his prisoners, 
and relieved Washington from a fruitful source, of trouble and 
anxiety. 

In the mean time, the besieging army laboured under accumu- 
lated difficulties. The scarcity of ammunition, notwithstanding 
every effort, continued almost unabated ; while the want of money, 
as well as of necessary equipments, was severely felt through all 
that rigorous winter. Washington describes his situation as inex- 
pressibly distressing, and declares, that unless some remedy were 
devised, the force must be broken up. Amidst all his distresses, 
it was necessary to keep up a good face towards the enemy, while 
many on the American side, exaggerating both the numbers and 
efficiency of his troops, wondered he should remain inactive, and 
not have already driven the English out of Boston. Extremely 
sensitive to troubles and opposition, these criticisms touched him 
sensibly ; yet, as a true patriot, he carefully concealed the explana- 
tion, which, reaching the opposite party, would have produced 
fatal effects. 

In February, 1776, having collected nearly seventeen thousand 
men, Washington thought it possible to destroy the British army 
in Boston, and in that way bring the war to a conclusion at one 
blow. "No man on earth," said he to the President of Congress, 
" wishes more ardently to destroy the nest in Boston, than I do ; 
no person would be willing to go greater lengths than I shall to 
accomplish it, if it be thought advisable." Three successive coun- 
cils of war induced him to give up the plan, but his conviction 
was not ah ere d, and he spoke of this adverse decision with great 
regret.* 

The counsel of war which decided the inexpediency of attacking 
the troops in Boston, unanimously advised the occupation of Dor- 
chester heights, to the extreme right of the American lines. These 
heights commanded the bay, Rox*bury neck, and Boston harbour. 
On the night of the 4th of March, during a brisk cannonade and 

* See his letter to the President of Congress, dated 26th of Februar}', 1776, 



PREPARATIONS FOR AN ATTACK. 217 

bombardment from a distant point of the American lines, a detach- 
ment of twelve hundred men, who worked all night, guarded by 
about seven hundred under arms, occupied and fortified this im- 
portant position. The British, whose attention was directed, dur- 
ing the time, to the cannonade, were startled to find, at dawn of 
day, a powerful host, strongly intrenched in a position incompati- 
ble with the longer safety of the fleet in the bay, or the army in 
their intrenchments. Pressed by the alternative of a sudden and 
perilous evacuation, or an attempt to dislodge the detachment on 
the heights, bravery, and perhaps necessity, determined them to 
adopt the latter course. 

The 5th of March, a day ominous for the soldiers of the king, 
arrived. It had memories of blood connected with it, and blended 
with the zeal for liberty, the thirst and strength of vengeance. 
Both parties prepared for the final struggle, conscious that success, 
at that early period of the contest, would go far to determine the 
fortune of the war. As on the day of Bunker Hill, every eminence 
in and around Boston was covered with anxious spectators, watch- 
ing for the terrible fray, in whose event so many public and indi- 
vidual feelings were involved. In the American bosom were 
gathered resentment, coupled with a patriotic ardour to expel from 
the soil the arms and presence of its enslavers, and the powerful, 
though new impulses of a rising ambition. In that of the long 
cooped-up army swelled the yet unabated confidence in the supe- 
riority of British arms, and a desire, at every hazard, of escaping 
from the ignominy of inaction under the insulting menaces of a 
blockading army, as well as a stinging memory of the former fields 
in which they had encountered them. With these feelings inflam- 
ing all the martial passions of the two hostile forces, now nearly on 
an equality — for the one was superior in numbers as the other was 
in discipline and military resources — the encounter would have 
been a terrible and bloody one. But it was their fate not to meet, 
The British detachment ordered to dislodge the Americans, not in- 
tending to commence the assault before the morning of the 6th, 
were embarked on board their transports, and fell down to Castle 
William, to be in readiness to make the attack by daylight, from 
that point. But a storm arose during the night which completely 
scattered their boats, so as to render it impossible to make the in- 
tended attack. Washington prepared, at the other side, to lead 
four thousand picked men into the heart of the British camp, as 
soon as any considerable detachment should be engaged in the 
enterprise which they had planned, and now saw, with mortifica- 
28 T 



218 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

tion, that once more he was disappointed in his anxiety to bring 
on a general action. 

General Howe, finding his situation rendered more precarious 
by this mischance, determined in a council of war, hurriedly called, 
to evacuate the town. Information of this determination, and of 
the fact that the safety of Boston depended on the inactivity of the 
American forces, being conveyed to General Washington, he de- 
termined to offer no interruption to the departure of the British ; 
but, at the same time, he prepared by fortifying Nook's Hill, and 
drawing his lines closer around Boston, to attack them at a mo- 
ment's notice, should they manifest the least disposition to injure 
the town. It was reported that they were bound for Halifax, but 
General Washington thought that this report was propagated by 
them, in order to conceal their real course, while they actually in- 
tended to proceed to New York, or some more southern port. With 
this idea he immediately despatched Brigadier-general Heath with 
six regiments, and before the end of March, Brigadier-general Sul- 
livan, with six more, for the defence of that city ; intending to fol- 
low himself with the remainder of the army, as soon as the British 
had entirely gone. 

About nine o'clock, on the morning of the 17th of March, the 
British troops precipitately embarked, without attempting the de- 
struction of Boston, but they remained within sight of the town ten 
days longer, and then steered for Halifax. 

General Washington entered Boston, as the vessels of the enemy 
were yet sluggishly and, as if reluctantly, struggling through the 
bay, not without regret, even though he acquired so signal and 
cheap an advantage, that he was not able to prevent this army of 
invasion from transferring its operations to another part of his de- 
voted country. The citizens of Boston received their countrymen 
with exulting shouts, which all America fervently echoed. The 
General Assembly of Massachusetts, in an address to the gene- 
ral, on this happy occasion, tendered him their grateful thanks for 
his attention to the civil constitution of the colony, whilst acting in 
the line of his department, and expressed their unrestrained joy in 
the delivery of the colony from the hateful presence of their ene- 
mies. 

When the Congress at Philadelphia received intelligence of the 
evacuation of Boston, they resolved, <<That the thanks of this Con- 
gress, in their own name, and in the name of the thirteen united 
colonies, whom they represent, be presented to his excellency. 
General Washington, and the officers and soldiers under his com- 



EVACUATION OF BOSTON. 219 

mand, for their wise and spirited conduct at the siege and acquisi- 
tion of Boston ; and that a medal be struck in commemoration of 
this great event, and presented to his excellency ; and that a com- 
mittee of three be appointed to prepare a letter of thanks, and a 
proper device for the medal." 

The following was accordingly addressed to General Washington 
•by the president of Congress. 

" Philadelphia, April 2, 1776. 

"Sir, — It gives me the most sensible pleasure to convey to you, 
by order of Congress, the only tribute which a free people will ever 
consent to pay, the tribute of thanks and gratitude to their friends 
and benefactors. The disinterested and patriotic principles which 
led you to the field, have also led you to glory ; and it affords no 
little consolation to your countrymen to reflect, that, as a peculiar 
greatness of mind induced you to decline any compensation for 
serving them, except the pleasure of promoting their happiness, 
they may, without your permission, bestow upon you the largest 
share of their affections and esteem. 

"Those pages in the annals of America will record your title to 
a conspicuous place in the temple of fame, which shall inform pos- 
terity, that, under your direction, an undisciplined band of husband- 
men, in the course of a few months, became soldiers ; and that the 
desolation meditated against the country by a brave army of vete- 
rans, commanded by the most experienced generals, but employed 
by bad men in the worst of causes, was, by the fortitude of your 
troops, and the address of their officers, next to the kind interposi- 
tion of Providence, confined for near a year within such narrow 
limits as scarcely to admit more room than was necessary for the 
encampments and fortifications they lately abandoned. Accept, 
therefore, sir, the thanks of the United Colonies, unanimously de- 
clared by their delegates to be due to you, and the brave officers 
and troops under your command ; and be pleased to communicate 
to them this distinguished mark of the approbation of their country. 
The Congress have ordered a golden medal adapted to the occasion 
to be struck, and when finished to be presented to you. 

"I have the honour to be, with every sentiment of esteem, sir, 
your most obedient and very humble servant, 

"John Hancock, President." 

This letter was received by General Washington at New York, 
on the 17th of April, when he immediately in general orders com- 
municated the thanks of Congress to the officers and soldiers under 



220 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

his command ; and in his letter to Congress, informing them that 
he had executed their order, in so doing, he observes : "They were 
indeed, at first, < a hand of undisciplined husbandmen ; but it is, 
under God, to their bravery and attention to their duty, that I am 
indebted for that success which has procured me the only reward 
which I wish to receive, the affection and esteem of my country- 
men." • 

The intelligence of these proceedings excited in England that 
spirit which former examples might lead us to expect. The minis- 
try determined upon the most vigorous measures, to put down a 
movement which had now assumed the character of open insurrec- 
tion. The nation poured in addresses, which appear to have ex- 
pressed decided assurances of public support. Penn, the hereditary 
governor of Pennsylvania, arrived with the address from Congress to 
the king, and endeavoured to second it, declaring his positive 
belief that the sentiments expressed in it were sincere. It was 
rejected, however, as coming from an illegal body, and consisting 
only of a series of empty professions, which their actions belied. 
The royal speech at the opening of parliament, on the 26th October, 
1775, lamented that a desperate faction, by gross misrepresenta- 
tions, had inflamed the mind of the people, overawed the well- 
affected, and amid protestations of loyalty and attachment to the 
parent state, openly raised the standard of rebellion. It was added 
that these persons now obviously aimed at total independence, and 
hence clemency as well as prudence called for decisive exertions 
speedily to put down such disorders; that those of the misled multi- 
tude who should repent of their error would experience the utmost 
lenity, and be received into favour, as if they had never revolted ; 
and that individuals on the spot would be invested with discretionary 
powers to grant immediate pardoft and indemnity to any province 
or colony which should return to its allegiance. Offers of aid had 
been received from several foreign powers ; and there was no reason 
to apprehend hostility or impediment from any quarter. 

The debates then followed in their usual train, ministers retaining 
their inflexible majority, while the opposition displayed unabated 
energy, and even a small increase of numbers. The Duke of Graf- 
ton, who had hitherto taken the side of the government, declared 
himself to have been misled by the supposition that their measures 
would issue in the peaceful adjustment of differences. He now 
urged a liberal course of conciliation, by repealing all the obnoxious 
acts passed since 1763 ; but unable to procure the concurrence of 
the cabinet, he resigned the seals, and took a decided place in the 



DEBATES OF THE BRITISH PARLIAMENT. 221 

opposite ranks. The thunders of indignant eloquence were no 
longer heard from Chatham, who was confined with illness ; but 
Camden, Richmond, and Shelburne, declared Great Britain to have 
been in every instance the aggressor, and stigmatized her proceed- 
ings as oppressive, cruel, unjust, and unrelenting, while they ac- 
quitted America of any design of aiming at independence. Wilkes 
asserted that ministers had wrested the sceptre out of the hands of 
the sovereign. Colonel Barre severely censured the conduct of 
the campaign, and held out the most gloomy prospects. The 
British army, he said, was a mere wen, a little excrescence on the 
vast continent of America. Fox characterized Lord North as the 
blundering pilot who had brought the vessel of the state into its 
present difficulties ; in one campaign he had lost a whole continent. 
The provincials, he admitted, were not justifiable to the extent they 
had gone ; yet, if they had not resisted at all, he would have thought 
them still more culpable. Mr. Adam, praising his lordship for 
ability and public virtue, accused him of indolence. The minister 
admitted this charge, but declared he had been forced into the 
situation, and had been deceived in events, never imagining that 
all America w'ould have risen in arms. He pathetically lamented 
his own situation, under the weight of which, amid all its power 
and pageantry, he felt himself ready to sink. The rejection by the 
provincials of his conciliatory plan, proved the necessity of using 
force, yet without the least intention of reducing them to slavery. 
It was his object, immediately on their submission, to establish a 
most just, mild, and equitable government. 

The address to the king, forming a regular echo to the speech, 
was carried in the Commons by one hundred and seventy-six to 
seventy-two, and in the Lords by seventy-five to thirty-two. 

The Duke of Grafton, in the Lords, moved for accounts of the 
troops serving and to be employed in America. This was ob- 
jected to, as giving information to the enemy, and was not pressed. 
The Duke of Richmond introduced the petition from Congress to 
the king, as an opening for pacification, and seeing in the house 
Mr. Penn, from Pennsylvania, obtained, with much difficulty, per- 
mission that he should be examined. That gentleman, as we have 
before seen, declared his belief that the colonies were wiUing to 
acknowledge the legislative authority of Britain, and did not aim 
at independence ; but they were determined to resist arbitrary tax- 
ation, and all the obnoxious acts, so that if no concessions were 
made, they would probably not hesitate in seeking the aid of 
foreign powers. The duke's motion, that the petition afforded a 

t2 



222 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

ground for conciliation, was, after a warm debate, rejected, by 
eighty- six to thirty-nine. 

In the Commons, Mr. Burke brought forward a plan, which, 
avoiding all extremes, would, he hoped, conciliate both parties. 
It included the repeal of the Boston and Massachusetts acts ; a de- 
claration that Britain would not tax America ; a general amnesty ; 
and the calling of a congress by royal authority to adjust the re- 
maining differences. Lord George Germain, who had recently 
joined the ministry, strenuously argued that concession must be 
preceded by submission. Lord North could not believe that it 
would lead to conciliation. Even Pownall insisted that any thing 
short of repealing every measure since 1763, would not now avail, 
and would uselessly present Great Britain in an humbled aspect as 
suing for peace. This motion, however, which some waiters sup- 
pose might have saved America to England, commanded a larger 
minority than any former question, being not less than one hun- 
dred and five to two hundred and ten. Mr. Hartley followed, with 
a proposal for a much larger concession, but could only command 
twenty-one against one hundred and twenty-three. 

Meantime, Lord North was carrying through a bill prohibiting 
all trade or intercourse with the colonies till tliey should submit. 
The Boston port, and other restraining acts were repealed, as be- 
ing all merged in this greater measure ; and the regulations for the 
trial of the malecontents became unnecessary, when the country 
was to be subjected to martial law. Commissioners were to go out 
with full powers, not only to restore any colony, on submission, to 
all its privileges, but to inquire into and redress its well-founded 
complaints. This measure was opposed with extreme warmth in 
all its stages, as ruinous to Great Britain, and, in fact, proceeding 
on the principle adopted by the colonists themselves. The oppo- 
sition, justifying the resistance of the latter, were branded by min- 
istry as defenders, and little better than adherents of rebellion. 
The bill was carried by sweeping majorities, one hundred and 
twelve to sixteen ; seventy-eight to nineteen. 

The determination being thus formed to employ force, the requi- 
site means were to be provided. In the estimates, the number of 
seamen was fixed at twenty-eight thousand, of land forces at fifty- 
five thousand ; but the difficulty lay in making up this latter num- 
ber. The troops at Boston, amounting to seven thousand four 
hundred, were manifestly inadequate ; while in Britain there was 
merely the small peace establishment considered necessary for the 
security of the country. The levying of a new army by voluntary 



THE BRITISH ARMY. 223 

enlistment was difficult and tedious ; while an additional time 
w^ould be required for its training. In this exigency, ministers saw- 
no expedient, except that of having recourse to several German 
princes, who on former occasions had been induced, partly by alli- 
ance, but more by pecuniary motives, to hire out their soldiers for 
temporaiy service. In the beginning, therefore, of 1776, treaties 
w-ere concluded with the Landgrave of Hesse-Cassel, for twelve 
thousand one hundred and four men, the Duke of Brunswick, for 
four thousand and eighty-four, the Prince of Hesse, for six hundred 
and sixty-eight, and the Prince of Waldeck, for six hundred and se- 
venty ; in all, seventeen thousand five hundred and twenty-six. 
These petty princes, keeping in view the extreme necessity of the 
British government, extorted very advantageous terms. The sum 
of <£7, 45. 4:d. (about $36) was to be paid for each man ; and be- 
sides being relieved from the whole burden of their maintenance, 
they were to receive compensation for all extraordinary losses, in 
addition to certain stipends, amounting in all to about .£135,000, 
not only during the whole period of their engagement, but consi- 
derably longer. Besides this heavy charge, the employment of fo- 
reign mercenaries, subjects of despotic princes, greatly aggravated 
the odium of the undertaking. 

These treaties, being in the end of February laid before parlia- 
ment, afforded ample room for invective. Their enormous expense, 
with the unconstitutional and dangerous tendency of introducing 
into the empire such vast bodies of mercenaries, were dwelt on at 
great length. The most gloomy views were taken of the condition 
and prospects of the British force. The Duke of Manchester ob- 
served, that the defection from government was total, — " total, my 
lords, besides the desolated prison of English troops, the devoted 
Boston." He saw little prospect of success with bands of German 
mercenaries and raw English recruits, said to be partly drawn 
from prisons. Earl Temple, however, while he deeply felt the im- 
becility of ministers, and the deplorable condition of the country, 
would not now obstruct their plan of making peace sword in hand. 
He hoped the first opportunity of doing so would be seized ; at 
present the die of war was cast ; it was time to act, not talk. 
Townshend saw no reason to doubt the war being ended in a sin- 
gle campaign. The measures were carried, and the adverse mo- 
tion negatived by the usual majorities. 

The news of the evacuation of Boston arrived in England about 
the 1st of May. The intelligence was published by the ministry 
on the 3d of May, in a short paragraph, merely announcing 



224 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

that "his majesty's forces had embarked from Boston with the 
greatest order and regularity, and without the least interruption 
from the rebels," and were destined for Halifax. One week after- 
wards, the Duke of Manchester moved an address to the king, 
praying him to order that the despatches of General Howe and 
Admiral Shuldham, relating to the operations of the army and fleet 
in the neighbourhood of Boston, should be laid before the House 
of Lords. A long and warm debate ensued, in the course of which 
the ministers were most severely censured for the part which they 
had taken in the recent occurrences in America. 

The Duke of Manchester complained of the scantiness of the in- 
formation vouchsafed by the ministers, and said that he believed, 
as he was informed by private intelligence, that General Howe 
quitted Boston, not of his own free will ; but that a superior enemy, 
by repeated efforts, by extraordinary works, by the fire of their 
batteries, rendered the place untenable. The Earl of Suffolk de- 
fended the ministry, saying, that orders had been sent out for a 
removal of the troops when the commander should think proper, 
and that after securing Halifax, it was the intention of General 
Howe, to penetrate by that way into the interior of the country, 
and thence pursue his future intended operations. 

The Marquis of Rockingham, however, came nearest to the true 
state of the case. After stating certain particulars, which he had 
received through a private channel, he said : — " If those accounts 
are true, of which I have very little doubt, your lordships \i411 per- 
ceive, though possibly there might have been no formal convention 
or capitulation signed, which I understood was avoided by the ge- 
nerals on both sides, for particular reasons, that, in whatever man- 
ner the business might have been negotiated, it had every substan- 
tial requisite of a treaty or compromise, as much as if it had been 
ever so solemnly authenticated or subscribed. The troops were 
permitted to evacuate the town without interruption, because they 
engaged on the other hand not to burn or destroy it, either previous 
to their departure, or after they had got on board their ships." 
The same sentiments were expressed by Lord Shelbourne, and 
other lords in the opposition, but the minister persisted that he 
had no knowledge or belief of any such agreement. 




CAPTURE OF COLONEL CAMPBELL. 



225 




BATT IE-GROUND OP TRENTON. 

CHAPTER XIV. 



HE British General Howe, when he sailed 
from Boston, left some cruizers to watch 
the entrance of the bay, and to give 
notice of the evacuation to such British 
vessels as were destined for that port. 
Notwithstanding this precaution, how- 
™ ever, several ships and transports sailed 
into the harbour, and became prizes to 
the Americans, who now began with the 
vessels, arms, and ammunition thus ob- 
tained to fit out privateers to act in some degree in the place of a 
regular naval force. Lieutenant-colonel Campbell of the British 
army, with about two hundred and seventy men, and a consider- 
able quantity of military stores, was thus captured, while entering 
the harbour. 
29 




226 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

Anxious for the safety of New York, General Washington sent 
forward his w^hole army to that place except five regiments, which 
he left under the command of General Ward, for the defence of 
Boston. As soon as he was sure that the British vessels had cer- 
tainly sailed from Nantasket Roads, where they had lain for ten 
days after the evacuation, he proceeded to join his army, and pass- 
ing through Providence, Norwich, and New London, arrived in 
New York on the 13th of April. That city was but ill prepared 
for defence in case of the arrival of General Howe. The state 
troops were as deficient in arms as many of the citizens were in 
patriotism. Many of the most influential citizens were loyahsts, 
and the city itself lay open to attack at any time, on the side of the 
ocean. Washington's first care, therefore, was to erect such forts 
as would command the approaches to the city, and in some degree 
overawe the inhabitants, while vessels were sunk in the North and 
East Rivers to obstruct the navigation. 

Though it was soon ascertained that General Howe, instead of 
sailing to the southward, had steered for Halifax, Washington did 
not allow himself to lose time, or give his enemies an advantage 
which skill or activity could prevent. As the command of the 
Hudson River was necessary, as well to facilitate the transmission 
of supplies to the northern army, then under the command of 
General Schuyler, as to secure that intercourse between the northern 
and southern colonies which was of so much consequence to the 
Americans, he immediately began to fortify the passes in the High- 
lands bordering on that river. It was thus that the American 
army was actively employed until General Howe appeared with 
the British off Sandy Hook, about the end of June. 

As early as December, 1775, the attention of the British was 
drawn to the importance of establishing a strong post in the south, 
with the double object in view of overawing the southern colonists, 
and distracting the attention of General Washington. For this 
purpose a large fleet was fitted out in Ireland, under the command 
of Admiral Sir Peter Parker, and General Clint6n was detached 
from Boston with instructions to use the utmost diligence, so as to 
accomplish his object before the opening the next campaign at the 
north, when he was ordered at all events to join General Howe at 
New York. He sailed from Boston in December, and, after touch- 
ing at New York, joined Governor Martin, near Cape Fear. 

In the beginning of June, the British fleet, under Sir Peter Parker, 
came to anchor in the harbour of Charleston, where it was joined 
by General Clinton. Fortunately, an official letter had been inter- 



DEFENCE OF FORT MOULTRIE. 229 

cepted early in the year, announcing the departure of this arma- 
ment, and its destination against the southern colonies. This gave 
the colonists an opportunity to be prepared for its reception. On 
Sullivan's Island, at the entrance of Charleston harbour, a fort 
had been constructed of the wood of the palmetto tree, which in its 
nature very much resembles the cork. Major-general Lee had 
already been sent by Washington to take the command of any 
forces which might be collected in the neighbourhood. His popu- 
larity soon collected a force of from five to six thousand men ; and 
his high military reputation gave confidence to the citizens as well 
as soldiers. Under him were Colonels Gadsden, Moultrie, and 
Thompson. Colonel Gadsden commanded a regiment stationed 
on the northern extremity of James Island ; two regiments under 
Colonels Moultrie and Thompson occupied the opposite extremities 
of Sullivan's Island. The remainder of the troops were posted at 
various points. General Clinton landed a number of his troops on 
Long Island, separated from Sullivan's Island on the eastern side 
by a small creek. The fort on Sullivan's Island was garrisoned 
by about four hundred men commanded by Colonel Moultrie. 
The attack on this fort commenced on the morning of the 28th of 
June. The ships opened their several broadsides upon it ; and 
General Clinton attempted to cross the creek from Long Island and 
attack it in the rear. The discharge of artillery upon this little 
fort was incessant, but Moultrie and his brave Carolinians returned 
the fire with such skill and spirit that many oi' the ships suffered 
severely; one of them ran agi'ound and was burned the next morn- 
ing. The British, after persisting in the attack until dark, were 
repulsed and forced to abandon the enterprise. Their loss amounted 
to about two hundred, that of the Americans to twenty. The pal- 
metto wood, in this instance, proved an effectual defence, as the 
enemy's balls did not penetrate, but sunk into it as into earth. 

In the course of the engagement, the flag-staff of the fort was shot 
away ; but Serjeant Jasper leaped down upon the beach, snatched 
up the flag, fastened it to a sponge staff, and while the ships were 
incessantly directing their broadsides upon the fort, he mounted the 
merlon and deliberately replaced the flag. Next day. President 
Rutledge presented him with a sword, as a testimony of his respect 
for his distinguished valour. Colonel Moultrie, and the officers and 
troops on Sullivan's Island, received the thanks of their country for 
their bravery, and in honour of the gallant commander the fort 
was named Fort Moultrie. 

The failure of the attack on Charleston was of great importance 

U 



230 



LIFE OF WAvSHINGTON. 




M0ULTRn5. 



to the American cause, and 
contributed much to the es- 
tablishment of the popular 
government. The friends 
of Congress triumphed ; 
and numbers of them, ig- 
norant of the power of Bri- 
tain and of the spirit which 
animated her counsels, 
began to, think that their 
freedom was achieved. 
The diffident became bold ; 
the advocates of the irre- 
sistibility of British fleets 
and armies were mortified 
and silenced ; and they 
who, from interested mo- 
tives, had hitherto been 
loud in their professions of loyalty, began to alter their tone. The 
brave defence of Fort Moultrie saved the Southern States from the 
horrors of war for several years.* 

Congress having requested the presence of General Washington 
to advise with them on the state of the country', and such measures 
as it might be necessary to adopt for the coming campaign, he 
repaired to Philadelphia, stopping by the way to view the capabili- 
ties of Staten Island, with regard to fortifications. He left the 
troops in New York under the command of Major-general Putnam, 
and passing through New Jersey, arrived at Philadelphia on the 
22d of May, 1776, where he remained about two weeks. Con- 
gress, as well as all the people of the country, were at this time in 
a high state of excitement. Affairs seemed to be hurrying to a 
crisis. News had lately arrived that their petition to the king had 
been rejected ; that they had been declared rebels ; that large 
armies were preparing to subdue them ; and that their whole com- 
merce was utterly prohibited. A large majority of the leading men, 
spurning the very thought of abandoning all ihat they had been so 
long contending for, and descending without a struggle from the 
proud rank of freemen, to be the slaves of the servants of the British 
empire, immediately formed the determined purpose of asserting 
independence. There were many, however, who still shrunk from 
entire separation ; and even whole provinces contended against it. 
* Western World, vol. i. 179, 180. 



THE QUESTION OF INDEPENDENCE. 231 

The partisans of independence, however, were bold and indefati- 
gable. They laboured incessantly to render the subject more 
familiar to the popular mind and ear. It was at that time that the 
notorious Thomas Paine published his pamphlet called Common 
Sense, which had a very powerful effect upon the multitude, in 
bringing them over to the side of those who thought that America 
ought to declare herself a free and independent state, and sever 
for ever her unprofitable connection with Great Britain. Congress, 
as a preliminary step, authorized the immediate suppression of 
royal jurisdiction in all the colonies, and the formation of govern- 
ments emanating from the people ; while they met the prohibition 
of the British parliament against their trade, by throwing it open 
to the whole world except Britain. The provincial assemblies of 
the different colonies took the matter up. On the 22d of April, the 
Convention of North Carolina empowered their delegates to concur 
with the others in the establishment of independence. That of 
Virginia w^ent farther, instructing theirs to propose it. Boston 
was now somewhat less forward, merely intimating that if Congress 
should think it necessary, they would willingly concur. To add 
to the difficulties of Congress, it was known from the late proceed- 
ings in parliament that commissioners were coming out with pro- 
posals for an accommodation. It is supposed that the presence 
and arguments of Washington had some influence in inducing 
them to vote an increase of the army, by the addition of twenty- 
three thousand eight hundred militia, ten thousand of whom were 
to form a flying camp. 

While General Washington was in Philadelphia, he received a 
letter from his brother, John Augustine Washington, informing 
him of the resolution of the convention of Virginia, in relation to 
independence. He replied : 

"I am very glad to find that the Virginia Convention have 
passed so noble a vote, and with so much unanimity. Things 
have come to such a pass now, as to convince us, that we have 
nothing more to expect from the justice of Great Britain; also, that 
she is capable of the most delusive arts ; for I am satisfied, that 
no commissioners ever were designed, except Hessians, and other 
foreigners ; and that the idea was only to deceive, and throw us 
off our guard. The first has been too effectually accomphshed, as 
many members of Congress, in short, the representation of whole 
provinces, are still feeding themselves upon the dainty food of re- 
conciliation ; and though they will not allow that the expectation 
of it has any influence upon their judgment, with respect to their 



232 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

preparations for defence, it is but too obvious that it has an opera- 
tion on every part of their conduct, and is a clog to their proceed- 
ings. It is not in the nature of things to be otherwise ; for no 
man that entertains a hope of seeing this dispute speedily and 
equitably adjusted by commissioners, will go to the same expense, 
and run the same hazard, to prepare for the worst event, as he who 
believes that he must conquer, or submit to unconditional terms, 
and the concomitants, such as confiscation, hanging, and the 
like." 

He returned to New York on the 7th of June, and lost no time 
in hastening his preparations to receive the enemy, whose fleet 
was daily expected. 

On the very day of Washington's arrival in New York, Richard 
Henry Lee, one of the representatives of Virginia, in the Congress, 
submitted a resolution for dissolving all connection with Great 
Britain, and constituting the united colonies free and independent 
states. This resolution was referred to a committee of the whole, 
but, it appearing that six of the thirteen colonies were not yet pre- 
pared to close the door of reconciliation with the mother country, 
on the 10th of June it was laid on the table until the 1st of July, 
when the discussion was resumed. On the evening of that day, 
the question being put in the committee, it was decided in the 
affirmative, by the votes of nine colonies ; the representatives of 
New York, Pennsylvania, Delaware, and South Carolina, acting 
under instructions from provincial conventions, did not feel them- 
selves at liberty to concur, though the delegates, as individuals, 
were mostly in favour of the measure. At the request of Mr. Rut- 
ledge, one of the representatives from South Carolina, the report of 
the committee was postponed one day, and in that interval, instruc- 
tions arrived from conventions in Pennsylvania and South Carolina, 
and the arrival of other members from New York and Delaware, 
gave majorities in those tvv^o colonies in favour of the resolution. 
In the mean time, a committee, consisting of Thomas Jefferson, 
John Adams, Benjamin Franklin, Roger Sherman, and R. R. Liv- 
ingston, had been appointed to draw up a formal declaration of 
independence. A draft was prepared by Thomas Jefferson, which, 
without any amendment by the committee, was reported to Con- 
gress on the 3d of July, On the 4th, this declaration, after being 
slightly modified, received the sanction of Congress, by the unani- 
mous vote of the colonies ; and it was unanimously declared that 
" the united colonies were, and of right ought to be, free and in- 
dependent states." 



THE DECLARATION OF INDEPENDENCE. 233 

This declaration was ordered to be engrossed, and on the 2d of 
August, it was signed by every member then present. Copies had, 
in the mean time, been sent to all the states, and one was sent to 
Washington, to be proclaimed at the head of the army. The news 
of independence was everywhere received with demonstrations of 

joy. 

" This measure entirely altered the character of the contest, and 
gave a clear and definite view of the point at issue between the 
contending parties. We no longer see colonists complaining and 
petitioning with arms in their hands, and vigorously resisting an 
authority which they did not disavow ; but a people asserting 
their independence, and repelling the aggressions of an invading 
foe."* 

On receiving intelligence of this important declaration. General 
Washington wrote as follows, to the President of Congress : 

« I perceive that Congress has been employed in deliberating on 
measures of the most interesting nature. It is certain that it is not 
with us to determine, in many instances, what consequences will 
flow from our counsels ; but yet, it behooves us to adopt such, as, 
under the smiles of a gracious Providence, will be most likely to 
promote our happiness. I trust the late decisive part they have 
taken is calculated for that end, and will secure to us that freedom 
and those privileges, which have been and are refused to us, con- 
trary to the voice of nature and the British constitution. Agree- 
ably to the request of Congress, I caused the Declaration to be pro- 
claimed before all the army under my immediate command ; and 
have the pleasure to inform them, that the measure seemed to have 
their most hearty assent ; the expressions and behaviour, both of 
officers and men, testifying their warmest approbation of it. I 
have transmitted a copy to General Ward, at Boston, requesting 
him to have it proclaimed to the continental troops in that depart- 
ment." 

Before this, the British army had made its appearance off New 
York. The abrupt departure of General Howe from Boston had 
considerably deranged his plans, as all the supplies were directed 
to that city, and some, consequently, fell into the hands of the 
Americans. After waiting two months at Halifax, in expectation 
of the arrival of reinforcements from England, General Howe 
sailed with the force he had previously commanded in Boston ; 
and directing his course towards New York, arrived on the 25th 

* Western World, vol. i. 188. 

30 u2 



234 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

of June, off Sandy Hook, and, on the 3d of July, disembarked his 
troops on Staten Island. Admiral Howe, to whom the command 
of the fleet had been intrusted, touched at Halifax soon after the 
departure of his brother, the general, and, without dropping an- 
chor, followed, and joined him at Staten Island, on the 12th of 
July. One month afterwards, General Clinton arrived with the 
troops brought back from the expedition against Charleston, 
South Carolina ; and about the same time Commodore Hotham 
also appeared with the reinforcement under his escort ; so that, at 
the middle of August, the invading army amounted to about 
twenty- four thousand men. 

Admiral Howe had brought out with him letters-patent from the 
king, constituting him, with his brother, joint commissioners for 
effecting a reunion between Great Britain and her colonies. Ac- 
cordingly, his first act was to send ashore to Amboy, under the 
protection of a flag, a circular letter addressed to the several late 
governors of the colonies, announcing his pacific powers, and 
requesting them to publish the declaration or proclamation which 
accompanied the letters. He promised pardon to all who had 
lately deviated from their allegiance, on condition that they speedily 
returned to their duty ; and in case of their compliance encouraged 
them to hope for future marks of favour from their sovereign. In 
his declaration he observed, " that the commissioners were author- 
ized in his majesty's name, to declare any province, colony, county, 
district, or town, to be at peace wdth his majesty ; and that due 
consideration should be had to the meritorious services of any who 
should aid or assist in restoring the public tranquillity ; that their 
dutiful representations should be received, pardons granted, and 
suitable encouragement to such as would promote the measures of 
legal government and peace, in pursuance of his majesty's most 
gracious purpose." 

A letter containing this declaration, addressed to Governor 
Franklin of New Jersey, was intercepted by General Mercer and 
forwarded to General Washington, and by him transmitted to 
Congress. Washington's opinion of them may be gleaned from 
his letter to the President of Congress, dated July 22, 1776. He 
there says : "When the letter and declaration from Lord Howe to 
Mr. Franklin and the other late governors come to be published, I 
should suppose the warmest advocates for dependence on the 
British crown must be silent, and be convinced beyond all possi- 
bility of doubt, that all that has been said about the commissioners 
was illusory, and calculated expressly to deceive and put off their 



NEGOTIATIONS. 235 

guard, not only the good people of our own country, but those of 
the English nation that were averse to the proceedings of the king 
and ministry. Hence we see the cause why a specification of their 
powers was not given to the mayor and city of London, on their 
address requesting it. That would have been dangerous, because 
it would then have been manifest that the line of conduct they were 
to pursue would be totally variant from that which they had indus- 
triously propagated, and amused the public with. The uniting of 
the civil and the military offices in the same persons, too, must be 
conclusive to every thinking person that there is to be but little 
negotiation of the civil kind." 

Congress resolved that these papers should " be published in the 
several gazettes, that the good people of the United States might 
be informed of what nature were the commissioners, and what the 
terms, with the expectation of which the insidious court of Britain 
had sought to amuse and disarm them ; and that the few who still 
remained suspended by a hope, founded either in the justice or 
moderation of their late king, might now at length be convinced, 
that the valour alone of their country is to save its liberties." 

On the 14th of July, the same day on which Admiral Howe 
attempted to circulate his proclamation, he sent, with a flag, a letter 
directed '< To George Washmgto7i, Esq.,'''' which the general refused 
to receive, it not being addressed to him with the title and in the 
form due to the rank which he held under the United States. This 
course was approved by Congress, in a resolution passed three days 
afterwards, by which they directed "that no letter or message be 
received on any occasion whatsoever from the enemy, by the com- 
mander-in-chief, or others, the commanders of the American army, 
but such as should be directed to them in the characters they 
respectively sustain." 

The commissioners not wishing to recognise any officer created 
by the existing powers in America, and yet having strong reasons 
inducing them to open a negotiation with General Washington, 
were at first unable to determine upon any measure likely to remove 
this preliminary obstacle. At length. Colonel Patterson, adjutant- 
general of the British army, was sent to New York, by General 
Howe, with a letter addressed " To George Washington, 8fc., Sfc, 
§'c." He was received with great politeness, and the usual cere- 
mony of blindfolding, in passing through the fortifications, was dis- 
pensed with in his favour. He was introduced to the commander- 
in-chief, whom he addressed by the title of "excellency;" and, 
after the usual compliments, entered upon the business, by regretting 



236 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

in the name of his principals the difficulties which had arisen with 
respect to addressing the letters, and declaring their high esteem 
for his person and character, and that they did not mean to dero- 
gate from the respect due to his rank, and thus it was hoped that 
the et ceteras would remove the impediments to their correspond- 
ence. The general replied, that a letter directed to any person in 
a public character should have some description or indication of it, 
otherwise it would appear a mere private letter; that it was true 
the et ceteras implied every thing, but they also implied any thing, 
and that he should absolutely decline any letter directed to him as 
a private person, when it related to his public station. Colonel 
Patterson then said that General Howe would not urge his delicacy 
farther, and repeated his assertions that no failure of respect was 
intended. 

A long conference ensued on the subject of prisoners, and the 
complaints which were made on both sides, particularly by the 
Congress, relative to the treatment they received. The adjutant 
then observed that the commissioners were armed with great powers, 
that they would derive the greatest pleasure from effecting an 
accommodation, and that he (Colonel Patterson) wished to have 
that visit considered as making the first advance towards that desi- 
rable object. He received for answer, among other things, that, by 
what had appeared, their powers were only to grant pardons ; that 
those who had committed no fault wanted no pardons ; and that 
the Americans were only defending what they considered their 
indisputable rights. Colonel Patterson was soon after introduced 
to the general officers, and refusing to stay and partake of some 
refreshments provided for him, he was conducted to his boat, which 
waited for him. The general had received him with honour and 
respect, and he had behaved with the greatest politeness and atten- 
tion during the whole business, and expressed strong acknowledg- 
ments that the usual ceremony of binding his eyes had been dis- 
pensed with. 

The substance of this interview was transmitted to Congress and 
published by their order. 

The disparity existing between the numbers of the British and 
American forces at the siege of Boston, still existed, though in a 
reversed condition. General Howe, in the month of August, com- 
manded a force of twenty-four thousand men, well disciphned, and 
abundantly supplied with every thing necessary to success in the 
field ; he daily expected to be reinforced by another detachment of 



THE ARMY AT NEW YORK. 237 

German troops, and he was supported by a fleet well fitted to its 
destined service. 

The state of General Washington's forces may be best inferred 
from the following letter from him to the president of Congress, 
dated August 8. "In my letter of the 5th, I enclosed a general 
return of the army under my immediate command, but I imagine 
the following statement will give Congi'ess a more perfect idea, 
though not a more agreeable one, of our situation : — For the several 
posts on New York, Long, and Governor's Islands, and Paulus 
Hook, we have, fit for duty, ten thousand five hundred and fourteen ; 
sick present, three thousand and thirty-nine ; sick absent, six hun- 
dred and twenty-nine ; on command, two thousand nine hundred and 
forty-six; on furlough, ninety-seven: total, seventeen thousand two 
hundred and twenty-five. In addition to these, we are only certain 
of Colonel Smallwood's battalion in case of an immediate attack. 
Our posts, too, are much divided, having waters between many of 
them, and some distant from others many miles. These circum- 
stances, sufficiently distressing of themselves, are much aggravated 
by the sickness that prevails throughout the army. Every day more 
or less are taken down, so that the proportion of men that may come 
in cannot be considered as a real and serviceable augmentation on 
the whole. These things are melancholy, but they are nevertheless 
true ; I hope for better. Under every disadvantage my utmost exer- 
tions shall be employed to bring about the great end we have in 
view, and so far as I can judge from the professions and apparent 
disposition of my troops, I shall have their support. The superi- 
ority of the enemy, and the expected attack, do not seem to have 
repressed their spirits ; these considerations lead me to think, that 
though the appeal may not terminate so happily in our favour as I 
could wish, yet they will not succeed in their views without consider- 
able loss. Any advantage they may get, I trust will cost them dear." 

Soon after the date of this letter, the American army was rein- 
forced by the arrival of Smallwood's battalion, two regiments from 
Pennsylvania, and a number of militia, which increased it to 
twenty-seven thousand, of whom but three-fourths were fit for duty. 
A part of these forces were stationed on Long Island, and, during 
the illness of Major-general Greene, was commanded by Major- 
general Sullivan ; the remainder occupied New York, Governor's 
Island, and Paulus Hook. 

From the time of the first appearance of the British forces, the 
Americans were in daily expectation of an attack. General 
Washington was therefore strenuous in preparing his troops for 



238 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

action. He was untiring in his efforts to improve their discipline, to 
inspire them with some of his own enthusiasm, and love of coun- 
try, and high-toned indignation against the invaders of the soil. 
Soon after the landing of the enemy on Staten Island, he addressed 
them in general orders, as follows : 

« The time is now near at hand which must probably determine 
whether Americans are to be free men or slaves ; whether they are 
to have any property they can call their own ; whether their houses 
and farms are to be pillaged and destroyed, and themselves con- 
.signed to a state of wretchedness, from which no human efforts 
will deliver them. The fate of unborn millions will now depend, 
under God, on the courage and conduct of this army. Our cruel 
and unrelenting enemy leaves us only the choice of a brave resist- 
ance, or the most abject submission. We have therefore to resolve 
to conquer, or to die. Our own, our country's honour, calls upon 
us for a vigorous and manly exertion ; and if we now shamefully 
fail, we shall become infamous to the whole world. Let us then 
rely on the goodness of our cause, and the aid of the Supreme Be- 
ing, in whose hands victory is, to animate and encourage us to 
great and noble actions. The eyes of all our countrymen are now 
upon us, and we shall have their blessings and praises, if happily 
we are the instruments of saving them from the tyranny meditated 
against them. Let us, therefore, animate and encourage each 
other, and show the whole world that a freeman contending for 
liberty, on his own ground, is superior to any slavish mercenary 
on earth. The general recommends to the officers great coolness 
in time of action, and to the soldiers, a strict attention and obedi- 
ence, with a becoming firmness and spirit. Any officer, or sol- 
dier, or any particular corps distinguishing itself by any acts of 
bravery and courage, will assuredly meet with notice and rewards ; 
and, on the other hand, those who behave ill, will as certainly be 
exposed and punished ; the general being resolved, as well for the 
honour and safety of the country, as of the army, to show no 
favour to such as refuse or neglect to do their duty at so important 
a crisis."* 

While the general was thus actively employed in organizing and 
disciplining his army, and preparing them to meet an enemy 
superior both in numbers and appointment, he did not forget or 
neglect his duties as a Christian ; he did not neglect to admonish 
his followers against the commission of sinful acts, nor to encou- 

* Orderly Book, July 2, 1776. 



WASHINGTON'S OPINION OF SWEARING. 239 

rage them, by every means in his power, to follow the path of 
virtue. He was unceasing in efforts to induce Congress to order the 
appointment of a chaplain to each regiment. His wishes in this 
respect were complied with in the beginning of July. He con- 
cludes his orders, communicating this fact, by saying, that " the 
blessing and protection of Heaven are at all times necessary, but 
especially so in times of public distress and danger. The general 
hopes and trusts, that every officer and man will endeavour so to live 
and act, as becomes a Christian soldier, defending the dearest 
rights and liberties of his country." 

In an order issued on the 3d of August, he says he <' is sorry to 
be informed that the foolish and wicked practice of profane cursing 
and swearing, a vice heretofore little known in an American army, 
is growing into fashion ; he hopes the officers will, by example as 
well as influence, endeavour to check it, and that both they and the 
men will reflect, that we can have little hope of the blessing of Hea- 
ven on our arms, if we insult it by our impiety and folly ; added 
to this, it is a vice so mean and low, without any temptation, that 
every man of sense and character detests and despises it." 

In the midst of his preparations for the approaching conflict, 
the general received intelligence, through Congress, of the brilliant 
successes of the American arms in South Carolina ; these he 
promptly announced, in his orders, for the encouragement of his 
army. 

"This glorious example of our troops," he said, "under the 
like circumstances with ourselves, the general hopes, will animate 
every officer and soldier to imitate, and even out-do them, when 
the enemy shall make the same attempt on us. With such a 
bright example before us, of what can be done by brave and spi- 
rited men fighting in defence of their country, we shall be loaded 
with a double share of infamy if we do not acquit ourselves with 
courage, and manifest a determined resolution to conquer or die. 
With this hope and confidence, the general most earnestly exhorts 
every officer and soldier to pay the utmost attention to his arms 
and his health ; to have the former in the best order for action, 
and by cleanliness and care to preserve the latter ; to be exact in 
discipline, obedient to superiors, and vigilant on duty. With such 
preparation, and a suitable spirit, there can be no doubt, but, by 
the blessing of Heaven, we shall repel our cruel invaders, pre- 
serve our country, and gain the greatest honour." 

When all the reinforcements of the enemy had arrived, General 



240 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

Washington, in expectation of an iminediate attack, and in order 
to inspire them with his own feeUngs, again addressed his army, 
and repeated his earnest request that every officer and soldier 
should have his arms and ammunition in good order ; keep within 
his quarters and encampments as far as possible ; be ready for 
action at a moment's call ; and when called to it, to remember 
that liberty, property, life, and honour, would all be at stake ; 
that upon their courage and conduct rested the hopes of their 
bleeding and insulted country ; that their wives, children, and 
parents, expected safety from them alone ; and that there was 
every reason to believe, that Heaven would crown with success 
a cause so just. He added, — <' The enemy will endeavour to in- 
timidate by show and appearance, but remember they have been 
repulsed on various occasions by a few brave Americans, Their 
cause is bad ; their men are conscious of it, and if opposed with 
firmness and coolness on their first onset, with our advantage of 
works, and knowledge of the ground, the victory is most assur- 
edly ours. Every good soldier will be silent and attentive, wait 
for orders, and reserve his fire until he is sure of doing execution : 
of this the officers are to be particularly careful." 

The possession of Long Island is necessary to the defence of 
New York. It had been determined in a council of war, to for- 
tify a camp at Brooklyn, opposite New York, and stretching across 
that end of Long Island, from the East River to Gowan's Cove. 
The rear of this encampment was defended by batteries on Red 
Hook and Governor's Island, and by works on the East River, 
which secured the communication with New York. In front of 
the encampment ran a range of hills, from east to west, across the 
island. These were covered with wood, and were steep, but 
could anywhere be ascended by infantry. Over this range were 
three passes, leading by three roads to Brooklyn Ferry. 

A strong detachment of the American army was posted on Long 
Island, under the command of General Greene, who made himself 
intimately acquainted with the passes on the hills, but unfortu- 
nately becoming sick. General Sullivan succeeded him in the 
command, only a few days before active operations commenced. 
The main body of the American army remained on York Island. 
A flying camp, composed of militia, was formed at Amboy, to pre- 
vent the depredations of the enemy in New Jersey ; and a force 
was stationed near New Rochelle, and at East and West Chester, 
on the Sound, to check the progress of the enemy, should they 



THE ARMIES AT LONG ISLAND. 241 

attempt to land above Kingsbridge, and enclose the Americans on 
York Island. The head-quarters of General Washington were in 
the city, but he was daily over at Brooklyn, to inspect the state of 
that camp, and to make the best arrangements circumstances 
would admit. An immediate attack being expected on Long 
Island, General Sullivan was reinforced, and directed carefully to 
watch the passes. 

On the 22d of August, the main body of the British troops, 
with a large detachment of Germans, landed under cover of the 
ships, on the south-western extremity of Long Island. A regi- 
ment of militia, stationed on the coast, retreated before them to 
the heights. A large reinforcement was sent to the camp at 
Brooklyn, and the command of the post given to General Putnam, 
who was particularly charged to guard the woods, and to hold 
himself constantly prepared to meet the assault of the enemy. 

Confident that an engagement must soon take place. General 
Washington made still another effort to inspire his troops with the 
most determined courage. "The enemy," said he, on addressing 
them, "have now landed on Long Island, and the hour is fast ap- 
proaching, on which the honour and success of this army, and the 
safety of our bleeding country depend. Remember, officers and 
soldiers, that you are freemen, fighting for the blessings of liberty, 
that slavery will be your portion, and that of your posterity, if you 
do not acquit yourselves like men." He repeated his instructions 
respecting their conduct in action, and concluded with the most 
animating and encouraging exhortations. 

On the 26th, the British, in three divisions, took post upon the 
south skirt of the wood ; General Grant upon their left, near the 
coast ; the German General De Heister in the centre, at Flatbush ; 
and General Clinton upon their right, at Flatland. The range of 
hills only now separated the two armies, and the different posts 
of the British were distant from the American camp from four to 
six miles. Upon their left a road to Brooklyn lay along the coast 
to Gowan's Cove, before General Grant's division. From Flat- 
bush a direct road ran to the American camp, in which the Ger- 
mans might proceed. General Clinton might either unite with 
the Hessians, or take a more eastern route, and fall into the Ja- 
maica road, by the way of Bedford. These three roads unite 
near Brooklyn. On the pass of Flatbush, the Americans had flung 
up a small redoubt, mounted it with artillery, and manned it with 
a body of troops. Major-general Sullivan continued to command 
31 X 



242 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

on the heights. On the evening of the 26th of August, General 
Clinton, without beat of drum, marched with the infantry of his 
division, a troop of light-horse, and fourteen field-pieces, to gain 
the defile on the Jamaica road. A few hours before day he sur- 
prised an American party stationed there to give the alarm of an 
approaching enemy, and, undiscovered, seized the pass. At day- 
light he passed the heights, and descended into the plain on the 
side of Brooklyn. Early in the morning General De Heister, 
at Flatbush, and General Grant, upon the western coast, opened 
a cannonade upon the American troops, and began to ascend the 
hill ; but they moved very slowly, as their object was to draw the 
attention of the American commander from his left, and give 
General Clinton opportunity to gain the rear of the American 
troops stationed on the heights. General Putnam, in the appre- 
hension that the serious attack would be made by De Heister and 
Grant, sent detachments to reinforce General Sullivan and Lord 
Sterling, at the defiles through which those divisions of the enemy 
were approaching. When General Clinton had passed the left 
flank of the Americans about eight o'clock on the morninfj of the 
27th, De Heister and Grant vigorously ascended the hill ; the 
troops which opposed them bravely maintained their ground, 
until they learned their perilous situation from the British columns, 
which were gaining their rear. 

As soon, as the American left discovered the progress of General 
Clinton, they attempted to return to the camp at Brooklyn, but their 
flight was stopped by the front of the British column. In the mean 
time the Hessians pushed forward from Flatbush, and the troops in 
the American centre, under the immediate command of General 
Sullivan, having also discovered that their flank was turned, and 
that the enemy was gaining their rear, in haste retreated towards 
Brooklyn. Clinton's columns continuing to advance, intercepted 
them ; they were attacked in front and rear, and alternately driven 
by the British on the Hessians, and by the Hessians on the British. 
Desperate as their situation was, some regiments broke through the 
enemy's lines and regained the fortified camp. 

The detachment on the American right, under Lord Sterling, 
behaved well, and maintained a severe conflict with General Grant 
for six hours until the van of General Clinton's division having 
crossed the whole island, gained their rear. Lord Sterling per- 
ceived his danger, and found that his troops could be saved only 
by an immediate retreat over a creek near the cove. He gave 
orders to this purpose, and to facilitate their execution, he in person 



BATTLE OF LONG ISLAND. 243 

attacked Lord Cornwallis, who, by this time having gained the 
coast, had posted a small corps in a house just above the place 
where the American troops must pass the creek. The attack was 
bravely made with four hundred men, who, in the opinion of their 
commander, were upon the point of dislodging Cornwallis ; but his 
lordship being reinforced from his own columns, and General Grant 
attacking Lord Sterling in the rear, this brave band was overpowered 
by numbers, and those who survived were compelled to surrender 
themselves prisoners of war ; but this spirited assault gave oppor- 
tunity for a large proportion of the detachment to escape. 

The loss of the Americans on this occasion, compared with the 
number engaged, was great ; General Washington stated it at a 
thousand men, but his returns probably included only the regular 
regiments. General Howe, in an official letter, made the prisoners 
amount to one thousand and ninety-seven. Among these were 
Major-general Sulhvan and Brigadier-generals Sterling and Wood- 
hull. The amount of the killed was never with precision ascer- 
tained. Numbers were supposed to have been drowned in the 
creek, and some to have perished in the mud of the marsh. The 
British loss acknowledged by General Howe, was twenty-one offi- 
cers, and three hundred and forty-six privates, killed, wounded, 
and taken.* 

General Washington passed over to Brooklyn in the heat of the 
action ; but unable to rescue his men from their perilous situation, 
was constrained to be the inactive spectator of ihe slaughter of his 
best troops. On this occasion, he is said for a moment to have 
lost his customary equanimity, and to have burst into the most vio- 
lent exclamations of grief. He was now sensible of the imminent 
peril which would follow from his awaiting the regular approaches 
of the enemy. His troops were without tents, many were suffering 
from sickness, and all from fatigue. Moreover, the movements of 
the British fleet indicated an intention to force a passage into the 
East River, and thus cut off the retreat of the troops into New York. 
By this measure the whole army would, doubtless, have been lost. 
The general, therefore, determined on an immediate removal of the 
army from Long Island to New York. This seemed, at first sight, 
to be utterly impracticable. The East River, nearly a mile broad, 
and sufficiently deep to float vessels of war, was in the rear ; the 
British had a strong fleet at hand ; and the victorious enemy w^as in 
front. In the evening of the 27th, the British encamped in front of 
the American works ; and on the morning of the 28th they broke 

* Marshall. Bancroft. Edmonds. 



244 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

ground about six hundred yards from the American redoubt on the 
right. In the face of all these difficulties, the Americans with their 
ammunition, artillery, provisions, horses, and carriages, on the 
evening of the 29th and morning of the 30th of August, by exer- 
tions which any but Washington would have deemed impossible, 
passed over from Brooklyn to New York without the loss of a man. 
This retreat was conducted with such perfect silence and order, 
that although the sound of the intrenching tools of the British was 
distinctly heard, their escape, favoured by a heavy mist, was unper- 
ceived until their rear was out of reach of the British fire. 

This event was announced by General Washington to the Presi- 
dent of Congress on the day after the evacuation of Long Island, by 
the following letter : 

I'iJYew York, August 3ls#, 1776, 

"Sir, — Inclination as well as duty would have induced me to 
give Congress the earliest information of my removal and that of the 
troops, from Long Island and its dependencies to this city, the 
night before last ; but the extreme fatigue whfch myself and family 
have undergone, as much from the weather since, as from the 
engagement on the 27th, rendered me and them entirely unfit to 
take pen in hand. Since Monday scarce any of us have been out 
of the lines till our passage across the East River was effected yes- 
terday morning ; and for forty-eight hours preceding that, I had 
hardly been off my horse, and never closed my eyes ; so that I was 
quite unfit to write or dictate till this morning, 

" Our retreat was made without any loss of men or ammunition, 
and in better order than I expected from troops in the situation 
ours were. We brought off all our cannon and stores, except a few 
heavy pieces, which, in the condition the earth was, by a long 
continued rain, we found upon trial impracticable ; the wheels of 
the carriages sinking up to the hobs rendered it impossible for our 
whole force to drag them. We left but little provisions on the 
island, except some cattle which had been driven within our lines, 
and which, after many attempts to force across the water, we found 
it impossible to effect, circumstanced as we were, I have enclosed 
a copy of the council-of-war held previous to the retreat, to which 
I beg leave to refer Congress for the reasons, or many of them, 
that led to the adoption of that measure. Yesterday evening and 
last night a party of our men were employed in bringing our stores, 
cannon, and tents from Governor's Island, which they nearly com- 
pleted. Some of the heavy cannon remain there still, but I expect 
they will be got away to-day. 



THE RETREAT FROM LONG ISLAND. 245 

<<In the engagement on the 27th, Generals Sullivan and Sterling 
were made prisoners. The former has been permitted on his 
parole to return for a little time. From Lord Sterling I had a letter 
by General Sullivan, a copy of which I have the honour to trans- 
mit, that contains his information of the engagement with his bri- 
gade. It is not so full and certain as I could wish ; he was hurried, 
most probably, as his letter was unfinished ; nor have I yet been 
able to obtain an exact account of our loss ; we suppose it from seven 
hundred to a thousand killed and taken.* General Sullivan says 
Lord Howe is extremely desirous of seeing some of the members 
of Congress ; for which purpose he was allowed to come out and to 
communicate to them what has passed between him and his lord- 
ship. I have consented to his going to Philadelphia, as I do not 
mean or conceive it right to withhold or prevent him from giving 
such information as he possesses in this instance. I am much 
hurried and engaged in arranging and making new dispositions of 
our forces ; the movements of the enemy requiring them to be im- 
mediately had ; and therefore I have only time to add that I am, 
with my best regards to Congress, &c., 

"George Washington." 

The retreat of General Washington from Long Island to New 
York was confessed, by the enemy themselves, to be a master- 
stroke of military skill, and to reflect the highest honour upon the 
man by whom it was planned and successfully executed. The de- 
feat which occasioned it, however, though gained by immensely 
superior numbers, with all the advantages derived from an almost 
perfect state of discipline, threw a gloomy shade upon the affairs 
of America. The British were left in undisputed possession of 
Long Island. Their future operations were involved in uncer- 
tainty. With the largest fleet that had ever appeared on the coast 
of America, they could transfer the seat of war to any spot which 
they might deem advisable. To gain exact knowledge of their 
strength, and future movements, was of high importance. For 
this purpose. General Washington applied to Colonel Knowlton, 
who commanded a regiment of light-infantry, in the van of the 
American army, and desired him to adopt some mode of gaining 
the necessary information. Colonel Knowlton communicated this 
request to Captain Nathan Hale, of Connecticut, who was then 
serving in his regiment. This young officer, animated by a sense 

* This is exclusive of General Woodhull and the militia under him, about two 
hundred, who were not in the action, but were captured afterwards at Jamaica. 

x2 



246 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

of duty, a hope that he might, in this way, be useful to his country, 
and a fixed opinion, that every kind of service necessary to the 
public good became honourable by being necessary, at once 
offered himself a volunteer for this hazardous enterprise. He 
passed, in the disguise of a schoolmaster, to Long Island, exam- 
ined every part of the British army, and obtained the best possible 
information respecting their position and future operations. In his 
attempt to return, he was met by a tory in the British service, 
recognised, apprehended, and carried before General Howe. The 
proof of his object was so clear, that he frankly acknowledged who 
he was, and what his designs were, in visiting the British camp. 
The British general, without a trial, and without even the form of 
a court-martial, doomed him to be executed the next morning. 
This sentence was carried into execution in the most unfeeling 
manner. A clergyman, whose attendance he desired, was refused 
him ; a Bible, for a moment's devotion, was not procured, though 
he requested it. Letters, which, on the morning of his execution, 
he wrote to his mother and sister, were destroyed ; and this very 
extraordinary reason was given by the provost-martial: "that the 
rebels should not know that they had a man in their army who 
could die with so much firmness." Unknown to all around him, 
without a single friend to ofTer him the least consolation, as amia- 
ble and as worthy a young man as America could boast, was thus 
hung as a spy, with this as his dying observation, that he " only 
lamented he had but one life to lose for his country, in the cause 
of liberty and the rights of man." Though the incidents attend- 
ing this execution will ever be abhorred by every friend to hu- 
manity and religion, yet there cannot be a question, but that the 
sentence was conformable to the rules of war, and the practice 
of nations in similar cases. Intelligence of this melancholy event 
was not received by General Washington for a long time. 

The defeat of, and retreat from Long Island, inspired unmin- 
gled disappointment and apprehension in the minds of the Ameri- 
can soldiers ; who could not have acquired that power of sustain- 
ing ill-success without any diminution of spirit and energy which 
is peculiar to veteran troops. The manner in which the army was 
constituted, was, consequently, almost fatal to the cause. The 
limited period for which the troops were enlisted, and which with 
many was on the point of expiring, induced them, as far as possi- 
ble, to shrink from active service. 

This state of things was matter of the most painful concern to 
the commander-in-chief. Had he held in his own hands the dis- 



EFFECT OF THE BATTLE. 247 

posal of the war, or possessed the powers which are ordinarily 
vested in officers of his rank, his decision of character would 
doubtless have soon manifested itself in the adoption of the admi- 
rable measures which he could at present only recommend. In 
his present position that decision of mind could only be exhi- 
bited in its rarest form, in the patient endurance of failure, with 
but a distant prospect of remedy, and in the maintenance of un- 
wavering energy, in the absence of all the stimulants which usually 
incite to it. That he did not sink under the accumulated disap- 
pointments which now began to overtake him, may indeed be 
attributed, in part, to the robustness and insusceptibility of his 
physical and mental constitution ; but far more to that all-absorb- 
ing patriotism which lightened every burden, and sweetened every 
suffering sustained in the cause of American freedom. 

His views of the present condition of the army may best be 
given in his own words, as they are contained in a letter addressed 
to Congress on the 2d of September, 1776. The letter is as fol- 
lows : 

♦< As my intelligence of late has been rather unfavourable, and 
would be received with anxiety and concern, peculiarly happy 
should I esteem myself, were it in my power, at this time, to trans- 
mit such information to Congress as would be more pleasing and 
agreeable to their wishes ; but, unfortunately for me, unfortunately 
for them, it is not. Our situation is truly distressing. The check 
our detachment sustained on the 27th ultimo, has dispirited too 
great a proportion of our troops, and filled their minds with ap- 
prehension and despair. The militia, instead of calling forth their 
utmost efforts to a brave and manly opposition, in order to repair 
our losses, are dismayed, intractable, and impatient to return. 
Great numbers of them have gone off; in some instances, almost 
by whole regiments, by half ones, and by companies at a time. 
This circumstance, of itself, independent of others, when fronted 
by a well appointed enemy, superior in number to our whole col- 
lected force, would be sufficiently disagreeable ; but, when their 
example has infected another part of the army, when their want of 
discipline, and refusal of almost every kind of restraint and govern- 
ment, have produced a like conduct, but too common to the whole, 
and an entire disregard to that order and subordination necessary 
to the well-doing of an army, and which had been inculcated be- 
fore, as well as the nature of our military establishment would 
admit of, our condition becomes still more alarming ; and, with 



248 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

the deepest concern, I am obliged to confess my want of confi- 
dence in the generality of the troops. 

"All these circumstances fully confirm the opinion I ever enter- 
tained, and which I, more than once, in my letters, took the liberty 
of mentioning to Congress, that no dependence could be put in a 
militia, or other troops than those enlisted and imbodied for a 
longer period than our regulations heretofore have prescribed. I 
am persuaded, and as fully convinced as I am of any one fact that 
has happened, that our liberties must of necessity be greatly ha- 
zarded, if not entirely lost, if their defence is left to any but a per- 
manent standing army ; I mean, one to exist during the war. 
Nor would the expense incident to the support of such a body of 
troops as would be competent to almost every exigency, far ex- 
ceed that which is daily incurred by calling in succour, and new 
enlistments, which, when effected, are not attended with any good 
consequences. Men who have been free, and subject to no con- 
trol, cannot be reduced to order in an instant ; and the privileges 
and exemptions which they claim and will have, influence the con- 
duct of others ; and the aid derived from them is nearly counter- 
balanced by the disorder, irregularity, and confusion they occa- 
sion. 

«I cannot find that the bounty of ten dollars is likely to produce 
the desired effect. When men can get double that sum to engage 
for a month or two in the militia, and that militia frequently called 
out, it is hardly to be expected. The addition of land might have 
a considerable influence on a permanent enlistment. Our number 
of men at present fit for duty is under twenty thousand ; they were 
so by the last returns and best accounts I could get after the en- 
gagement on Long Island ; since which, numbers have deserted. 
I have ordered General Mercer to send the men intended for the 
flying camp to this place, about a thousand in number, and to try, 
with the militia, if practicable, to make a diversion upon Staten 
Island. Till of late, I had no doubt in my own mind of defending 
this place ; nor should I have yet, if the men would do their duty ; 
but this I despair of. It is painful, and extremely grating to me, 
to give such unfavourable accounts ; but it would be criminal to 
conceal the truth at so critical a juncture. Every power I possess 
shall be exerted to serve the cause ; and my first wish is, that, 
whatever may be the event, the Congress will do me the justice to 
think so." 

The general's concern for the pecuniary resources of his country 
probably induced him to omit, in this letter, urging the Congress 



NEGOTIATIONS WITH ADMIRAL HOWE. 249 

to remedy a defect in the structure of the army, which was proba- 
bly one of the causes of the late miscarriage. The American army 
contained not a single corps of cavalry. "Had the general," says 
Judge Marshall, " been furnished with a few troops of light-horse, 
to serve merely as videts, it is probable that the movement, so 
decisive of the fate of the day, could not have been made unno- 
ticed." 

The defeat of Long Island, followed up so closely by this serious 
remonstrance, opened the eyes of Congress, dispelled the delusion, 
which maintained that the defence of the country needed not a 
regular army, and convinced all that an organized and permanent 
army was essential to the defence of the republic, and soon after 
the reception of Washington's letter, a resolution was adopted to 
raise and equip eighty-eight battalions, to serve during the war. 
Tardy resolution, when a great army had landed in the country, 
and had obtained a signal victory ! 

Admiral Howe took advantage of the effect which that victory 
had produced on the minds of the Congress, by opening a negotia- 
tion in the exercise of his power as a commissioner. For this pur- 
pose General Sullivan was sent on parole to Philadelphia, with a 
verbal message from Admiral Howe, stating his powers, and say- 
ing that though he could not treat with them in the character which 
they had assumed, yet he was desirous of a conference with some 
of the members in the character of private gentlemen, for the pur- 
pose, if still possible, of adjusting the dispute between Great Bri- 
tain and America. When General Sullivan reached Philadelphia, 
he was instructed by Congress to present the message of Admiral 
Howe to them in writing. This was done, and after much debate, 
it was resolved that General Sullivan be requested to inform Lord 
Howe, that, " being the representatives of the free and independent 
states of America, they could not with propriety send any of their 
members to confer with him in their private characters ; but that, 
ever desirous of establishing peace on reasonable terms, they would 
send a committee of their body to know if he had any authority 
to treat with persons appointed by Congress for that purpose, in 
behalf of America, and what that authority was, and to hear such 
propositions as he should think fit to make upon the subject." 

Dr. Frankhn, John Adams, and Edward Rutledge, were ap- 
pointed the committee "to receive the communications of Admiral 
Howe." They waited on his lordship on the 11th of September, 
in Staten Island, and were received with great politeness, but as 
the main condition on one side was " allegiance," and on the other 
32 



250 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

<' independence," the conference proved fruitless. General Sulli- 
van returned once more a captive to the British camp, and in the 
course of the month was exchanged for General Prescott. The 
committee of Congress returned to Philadelphia, and, on the 17th 
of September, made their report. They sum up their account of 
the conference in these words : 

« Upon the whole, it did not appear to your committee, that his 
lordship's commission contained any other authority of importance 
than what is contained in the act of Parliament, viz. : that of 
granting pardon with such exceptions as the commissioners shall 
think proper to make, and of declaring America, or any part of it, 
to be in the king's peace, upon submission. For as to the power 
of inquiring into the state of America, which his lordship men- 
tioned to us, and of conferring and consulting with any persons 
the commissioners might think proper, and representing the result 
of such conversations to the ministry, who (provided the colonies 
would subject themselves) might, after all, or might not, at their 
pleasure, make any alterations in the former instructions to gover- 
nors, or propose in parliament any amendment of the acts com- 
plained of, we apprehend any expectation from the effect of such a 
power would have been too uncertain and precarious to be relied 
on by America, had she still continued in her state of depend- 
ence." 

This conference, though ineffectual with respect to the object 
immediately in view, was of considerable service to the Americans. 
It arrested General Howe in the career of victory, and suspended, 
during its progress, the operations of the campaign. It afforded a 
pause to the dispirited Americans, and gave them time to rally 
their drooping spirits ; a matter, in their circumstances, of no slight 
importance. 

The British army, now in complete possession of Long Island, 
fronted and threatened New York Island from its extreme southern 
point to the part opposite to the northren extremity of Long Island 
— a space of about nine miles. The two armies were thus sepa- 
rated only by the East River, which is, on an average, about thir- 
teen hundred yards wide, and on both sides of which batteries 
were erected, which kept up an almost incessant cannonade upon 
each other. Immediately after the battle of Long Island, General 
Howe made preparations for the purpose of compelHng Washing- 
ton to evacuate New York. This he thought himself unable to 
accomplish by a direct attack upon the American lines, and ac- 
cordingly he sought to affect it by a circuitous manoeuvre. A 



EVACUATION OF NEW YORK. 251 

part of the fleet sailed round Long Island, and appeared in the 
upper part of the Sound. Two frigates passed between Governor's 
Island and Red Hook, up the East River, without any apparent in- 
jury from the batteries, and were sheltered behind a small island 
from the American artillery, while the admiral, with the main body 
of the fleet, lay at anchor close in with Governor's Island, ready to 
pass up either the North or East River, or both, and act against any 
part of New York Island, as might be required. These movements 
indicated a disposition to land somewhere about Kingsbridge, and 
take a position which would cut off" the communication of the 
American army with the country, and thereby force them to a bat- 
tle, which, if unfortunate in its issue, would infallibly destroy 
them. 

In this state of things General Washington called a counsel of 
the general officers, who, upon a full and comprehensive view of 
their situation, advised him to arrange the army in three divisions; 
five thousand men to remain for the defence of the city; nine thou- 
sand to take post at Kingsbridge and its dependencies, as well to 
possess and secure those important positions as to be ready to 
repel any attempt of the enemy to land on the island ; and the re- 
mainder to occupy the intermediate space, and support either. 
A few days afterwards it was determined to withdraw the five 
thousand from New York, and with them strengthen the other 
posts. 

"I am sensible," says the general, in a letter to Congress, "that 
a retreating army is encircled with difficulties ; that declining an 
engagement subjects a general to reproach ; and that the common 
cause may be affected by the discouragement it may throw over 
the minds of many. Nor am I insensible of the contrary effects, if 
a brilliant stroke could be made with any probability of success, 
especially after our loss upon Long Island. But, when the fate of 
America may be at stake on the issue, when the wisdom of cooler 
moments and experienced men have decided that we should pro- 
tract the war, if possible, I cannot think it safe or wise to adopt a 
different system, when the season for action draws so near to a close. 
That the enemy mean to winter in New York, there can be no 
doubt ; that with such an armament they can drive us out, is 
equally clear. The Congress having resolved that it should not be 
destroyed, nothing seems to remain, but to determine the time of 
their taking possession. It is our interest and wish to prolong it 
as much as possible, provided the delay does not affect our fu- 
ture measures," 



252 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

When the evacuation of New York city was finally resolved on, 
General Washington immediately began to remove the sick, amount- 
ing to more than the fourth part of the whole army, together with the 
military stores and provisions, to a place of safety above Kingsbridge. 
The sick w^ere removed, but before all the stores could be brought 
off, three ships of war ran up the North River on the morning of the 
15th of September, and, though they were probably designed to 
draw the attention of the general from what was passing on the 
other side of the island, they also effectually prevented the removal 
of the remainder of the stores from the city by water. About the 
same time. General Sir Henry Clinton, detached by General Howe, 
with four thousand men, crossed the East River in flat-bottomed 
boats, and, under cover of the fire of six or seven ships of war which 
had ascended the East River some few days before, landed at Kipp's 
Bay. General Washington, who, from the movements of the enemy, 
had thought it probable they would soon attempt to land in the 
vicinity of Haerlem, had, on the evening of the 14th, proceeded to 
that place ; the main body of his army being posted on the sur- 
rounding heights. Immediately on hearing the cannonade the next 
morning, he rode with all possible expedition towards the place of 
landing, w'here breastworks had been thrown up, and men stationed 
to oppose the enemy. To his great surprise and mortification, 
however, he found the troops which had been posted there, and 
those ordered to their support, consisting of eight regiments, not- 
withstanding the exertions of their generals to form them, running 
away in the most disgracefid manner. On the appearance of a 
small party of the enemy, not more than sixty or seventy, they fled 
with the greatest terror and precipitation, without firing a shot. 
General Washington met the fugitives on the road, drew his sword, 
threatened and endeavoured to rally them. But his efforts were 
ineffectual ; they deserted their general-in-chief in the presence of 
the enemy, and it is said that he was "so vexed at the infamous 
conduct of his troops that he sought death rather than life."* To 
extricate him from his hazardous situation, his attendants found it 
necessary to seize the reins of his horse and turn him away from 
the enemy. General Clinton, not having a full knowledge of the 
nature of the field, took post on some high ground called the Inclen- 
berg, about three miles north of the city, and on a portion of the 
island, where, if he had lengthened his fines, or passed over to Haer- 
lem plains, he might have effectually cut off the retreat of the troops 
still in the city. 

* General Green's Letter, Sept. 17. 



EVACUATION OF NEW YORK. 253 

r; ASHINGTON immediately sent orders to General 
1 Putnam to evacuate the city and join him on the 
heights of Haerlem ; while he secured those 
heights in the best manner he could with the 
III troops which were on or near them. Putnam's 
retreat was effected with the loss of but few men, 
though most of the heavy cannon and part of the 
stores and provisions were left in the city. 

The successive retreats which had followed the landing of the 
British on Long Island, had so dispirited the American troops, that 
they fled whenever the enemy appeared. The new position of the 
general's quarters on the heights of Haerlem, was such as to allow 
of frequent skirmishes with the enemy, which he thought might have 
some influence in accustoming the American militia to oppose the 
superior discipline of the British troops. Accordingly, he imme- 
diately formed the design of cutting off some of the enemy's light 
troops, who, encouraged by their successes, and the apparent cow- 
ardice of their opponents, had advanced to the extremity of the 
high ground opposite to the American camp. To effect this salu- 
tary purpose, on the morning of the 16th of September, the day 
after the landing of General Clinton, Colonel Knowlton and Major 
Leitch were detached with parties of riflemen and rangers to get in 
their rear, while a disposition was made, as if to attack them in 
front. A sharp conflict ensued ; each party was reinforced ; a 
severe firing was kept up for nearly four hours ; the enemy were 
put to flight in open ground, and forced from posts which they had 
seized two or three times. In consequence of the attack being made 
on the flank rather than the rear, as had been directed, the British 
had an opportunity of retreating to their main body. The American 
loss was about twenty killed and forty wounded, but the greatest 
loss sustained was in the death of Colonel Knowlton, who fell bravely 
fighting, while Major Leitch was mortally wounded. These offi- 
cers were killed near the beginning of the action, but their men, 
animated by the example of the inferior officers, persevered, and 
continued the engagement with the greatest resolution ; and in 
some measure blotted out the stain of the preceding day. This and 
similarly successful skirmishes had the expected effect of raising 
the depressed spirits of the American forces, and accustoming them 
to the sound of the British cannon, and the sight and effects of Bri- 
tish discipline. 

In this way the American army remained encamped on the 
heights of Haerlem for upwards of three weeks in a state of com- 

y 



254 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

parative inactivity. The British took possession of New York on 
the 15th of September. 

On the 21st of September, a destructive fire broke out in New 
York, and reduced about a fourth part of the city to ashes. It 
began in a dram shop near the river, about one o'clock in the 
morning ; and, as every thing was dry, and the houses covered 
with shingles, the flames spread rapidly, and raged with great fury. 
Many of the citizens had removed from the town before the entrance 
of the British, the pumps and fire-engines were in bad order, and 
a brisk south wind fanned the flame. Two regiments of soldiers 
and many men from the fleet were employed to arrest the progress 
of the devouring element, and at length succeeded in extinguishing 
the fire, but not till it had consumed about a thousand houses. 

" The Americans have been accused of wilfully setting fire to the 
city. Such accusations in similar circumstances have at all times 
been made ; but in the present instance the charge is wholly 
unfounded. It is most likely that the fire was occasioned by the 
inconsiderate revelry of the British sailors, who had been permitted 
to regale themselves on shore."* 

Convinced that no successful attack could be made upon the 
American camp from the side of New York, General Howe again 
attempted to cut off the communication of the army with the New 
England states, and by enclosing it on New York Island compel 
General Washington to a general engagement. For this purpose, 
leaving a garrison in New York, early on the morning of the 12th 
of October, he embarked the remainder of his army in flat-bottomed 
boats, and, in the course of the same morning, landed at Frog's 
Neck, in West Chester county, and soon after advanced to New 
Rochelle, where he was joined by about five thousand foreign mer- 
cenaries. To counteract the manifest object of these movements. 
General Washington extended the left of his army towards White 
Plains, beyond the right of the enemy, while he lefl a garrison for 
the protection of Fort Washington and the lines of Haerlem, and 
Kingsbridge, so that the main body of the American army formed 
a line of intrenched camps extending from twelve to thirteen miles, 
from the heights of Haerlem to White Plains. The British moved 
with slowness and circumspection, towards the extreme left of the 
American lines. The compactness which they endeavoured to 
preserve, did not, however, prevent some skirmishes, in which the 
Americans conducted themselves to the satisfaction of the com- 
mander-in-chief. On the 26th of October, the main body of the 

* Western World, London, 1830, vol. i. 198, 199. 




MANOEUVRES OF THE ARMIES. 255 

American army, to the number of about seventeen thousand, took 
possession of the heights, on the east side of the river Brunx, in 
front of the British army. Following his usual plan, Washington 
entrenched his camp M'iththe greatest rapidity, and in such a man- 
ner, that it drew from the British general, and contemporary British 
records, the highest praise for his military talents. A bend in the 
river covered his right flank, and he posted a body of about sixteen 
hundred, under General McDougall, on a hill in a line with his 
rijiht, but on the western side of the Brunx. 

N the 28th of October, the British army ad- 
vanced in two columns towards the American 
camp. The left column was led by General 
Howe in person, while the other was led by 
General Clinton. A distant cannonade was 
kept up with but little effect on either side. 
McDougall's detachment, on the American 
ri"-ht, attracted the notice of General Howe, and he resolved to 
dislodge it. He ordered General Leslie, with the second British 
brigade, and Colonel Donop, with the Hessian grenadiers, on that 
service. On their advance, the American militia fled with precipi- 
tation ; but about six hundred regulars, animated by McDougall, 
vigorously defended themselves for some time. Being at last com- 
pelled to retreat, the British took possession of the hill ; but they 
were still at too great a distance to be able to annoy any part of the 
American line. 

Three days afterwards, General Howe having received reinforce- 
ments from New York and other quarters, resolved to attack the 
American camp. A heavy rain, during the whole night preceding 
the day appointed for the attack, rendered the ground so slippery, 
that he deemed it unadvisable to persist in the attempt. He ac- 
cordingly changed his plan, and began to move off his army by 
small detachments, in order, unobserved, if possible, to possess 
himself of the heights behind the American position. On perceiv- 
ing this, Washington w^ithdrew his forces, on the 1st of November, 
towards North Castle, and took a strong position behind the river 
Croton, about two miles above his former encampment ; and so 
strongly did he fortify this excellent position, that the British gene- 
ral, despairing of success in any attempt to force it, marched his 
army away, in order to attack Fort Washington ; in which a con- 
siderable garrison had been left. The design of this movement 
was at once conjectured by General Washington. In communi- 
cating the information to Congress, he observes : 



256 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

"I cannot indulge an idea, that, supposing he is going to New 
York, he means to close the campaign, and to sit down without 
attempting something more. I think it highly probable, and almost 
certain, that he will make a descent, with a part of his troops, into 
Jersey ; and, as soon as I am satisfied that the present manoeuvre 
is real, and not a feint, I shall use every means in my power to 
forward a part of our force to counteract his designs." In a sub- 
sequent part of the same letter, he says, " I expect the enemy will 
bend their force against Fort Washington, and invest it immedi- 
ately. From some advices, it is an object that will attract their 
earliest attention." 

He wrote, the next day, to Governor Livingston, of New Jersey, 
advising him of the measures which he apprehended, recommend- 
ing that the militia should be held in readiness, and that the stock, 
and every thing which could yield support to the British army, 
should be removed from the sea-coast, or destroyed. Hearing that 
three British vessels had sailed up the Hudson River, notwith- 
standing the obstructions which he had caused to be sunk in the 
channel ; he was convinced that Fort Washington was no longer 
tenable, or if it could be retained, it would be of no use. He 
accordingly wrote to General Greene, who commanded on the 
Jersey shore, and was particularly intrusted with the defence of 
Forts Washington and Lee, '< If we cannot prevent vessels from 
passing up, and the enemy are possessed of the surrounding coun- 
try, what valuable purpose can it answer, to attempt to hold a post 
from which the expected benefit cannot be had ? I am therefore 
inclined to think, that it will not be prudent to hazard the men and 
stores at Mount Washington ; but, as you are on the spot, I leave 
it to you, to give such orders respecting the evacuation of Fort 
Washington as you may judge best." 

General Greene, being thus left to use his discretion, being 
struck with the importance of the post, and the discouragement 
which the successive evacuation of posts was calculated to give, 
reinforced Colonel Magaw, who commanded at Fort Washington, 
and increased the garrison to two thousand men. 

Convinced that the British general intended to move southward, 
General Washington, on the 11th and 12th of November, crossed 
the river with the greater part of his army. He was obliged to 
make a circuit of sixty-five miles, on account of the British ship- 
ping, which opposed his passage at all the lower ferries. In the 
mean time, General Howe appeared before Fort Washington, and, 
on the 15th of November, summoned the garrison to surrender. 



SURRENDER OF FORT WASHINGTON. 257 

Colonel Magaw replied that he would defend it to the last ex- 
tremity. This summons and the colonel's answer were communi- 
cated to General Washington, who had arrived at Fort Lee. In 
the silent hour of midnight he left Fort Lee in a boat, and sailed 
for the besieged post. On his way, he was met by Generals Greene 
and Putnam, who assured him of the high probability of the mis- 
carriage of the enemy's attempts, as well as the ability of the fort 
to stand a siege for a considerable time, and he returned again to 
Fort Lee. 

On the following morning, Howe, with unusual boldness, deter- 
mined to attempt the reduction of the fort by storm, and advanced 
against it in four divisions. In a few hours, after an obstinate re- 
sistance, they succeeded in surmounting the outworks, and driv- 
ing the garrison within the fort. In this situation General Howe 
again demanded their surrender. The ammunition of the Ameri- 
cans being nearly expended, and the numbers being very unequal. 
Colonel Magaw surrendered himself and the soldiers under his 
command, prisoners of war. It was most unfortunate that this sur- 
render was made so hastily, as, during the negotiation, a message 
was received from General Washington, that he would bring troops 
to his assistance in the evening, or, if the fortress could not be 
maintained, he would endeavour to bring off the garrison. This 
offer came too late. He had already entered too far into a treaty 
to retract. In the attack, the British lost about eight hundred men, 
in killed and wounded. That of the Americans was inconsider- 
able. 

On the 20th of November, Lord Cornwallis was detached with 
a large force, to cross the Hudson, probably with the hope of sur- 
rounding the whole American army, which lay around Fort Lee, 
between the Hackinsac and Hudson Rivers. Retreat was now un- 
avoidable. Already part of the stores had been removed, but the 
greater part fell into the hands of the enemy. The retreat of the 
army over the Hackinsac was effected without loss of men. These 
misfortunjes were indeed disastrous, and almost insupportable. 
The troops taken at Fort Washington were the flower of the army, 
and the loss of the provisions captured at Fort Lee was most se- 
verely felt in an army which was at the best but scantily supplied. 
These two losses were the greatest that had ever befallen the 
American cause, and they maybe considered as the commencement 
of a period of suffering, almost unexampled in the history of war- 
fare. Of all the eras of Washington's career, this was the one 
which most severely tested his courage and patriotism. The pro- 
33 y 2 



258 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

spect around him and before him, so far as human sagacity could 
penetrate the future, was gloomy and melancholy in the extreme. 
To add to his difficulties, now, when he needed numbers at his 
command, and enthusiasm in the minds of all, he saw his army on 
the eve of dissolution, the time of enlistment being nearly expired, 
and the soldiers themselves, unused to defeat, and weary of the 
service, anxious for nothing more than to return to their own 
homes. Under these depressing circumstances, he wrote to Gene- 
ral Lee, who was still on the eastern side of the Hudson, desir- 
ing him to join him with his forces ; but, unhappily, the same 
wretched system of short enlistments frustrated this design. His 
troops were daily vanishing on the expiration of their term of en- 
listment, and he urged this as a reason why it would be impolitic 
in him to hazard a march past the enemy to join his general. 
The forces stationed at Bergen, under General Mercer, w'ere also 
fast melting away, and the newly-drafted militia but scantily sup- 
plied the places of the deserters. In addition to these adverse 
circumstances, the inhabitants of New Jersey were in a great mea- 
sure indifferent to the cause of their country, and many of the 
most wealthy testified a desire to return to their allegiance to Bri- 
tain. So high had this spirit run, in the county of Monmouth, 
that General Washington was obliged to detach some militia to 
suppress an insurrection of the royalists there. The danger of a 
majority of the people of the state deserting the cause of inde- 
pendence, when the enemy should come among them, and thus 
causing a disruption in the political union of America, gave him 
the most serious alarm. 

Being liable to be enclosed between the Hackinsac and Passaic 
Rivers, and unable to prevent the crossing of the enemy, Washing- 
ton retreated to Newark, where he remained some days, making 
the most earnest applications in every quarter for reinforcements, 
and pressing General Lee to hasten his march to the southward 
and join him. On the appearance of Cornwallis, on the 29th No- 
vember, he retreated to Brunswick. While there, the term of ser- 
vice of the Maryland and Jersey troops expired, and he had the 
mortification of vdtnessing the gradual diminution of his feeble 
army in the very sight of a pursuing enemy. He continued in 
Brunswick until the advanced guards of the enemy showed them- 
selves, when he again fell back, and leaving twelve hundred men 
under Lord Sterling at Princeton, he himself, with the remainder 
of the army, proceeded to Trenton, on the Delaware. Having taken 
the precaution of collecting and guarding all the boats on this 



RETREAT TO TRENTON. 259 

river, from Philadelphia upwards for seventy miles, he first sent 
his sick to Philadelphia, and his few remaining military stores and 
baggage across the Delaware, and then sent a detachment of twelve 
hundred men to Princeton, to keep up the appearance of opposition, 
and soon after followed with two thousand militia ; but before he 
reached Princeton, he received intelhgence that Lord Cornwallis 
was advancing from Brunswick by several routes, evidently with 
the intention of gaining his rear and cutting off his retreat across 
the Delaware. An immediate retreat was necessary. Lord Ster- 
ling was called in, and, on the 8th of December, he accomplished 
the passage at Trenton ferry, the van of the British army making 
its appearance just as his rear-guard had crossed. 

General Washington was careful to secure all the boats in the 
river on the Pennsylvania side, so that the little army could now 
rest in some security, after a retreat of three weeks in front of an 
enemy six times their number. The distresses suffered by the 
troops in this retreat, have scarcely been surpassed since the cele- 
brated retreat of the Ten Thousand. Dispirited by their recent losses 
and fatigues, these men marched almost naked and barefooted 
through the snows and extreme cold of November and December, 
before, and almost continually in sight of, a numerous, w^ell-ap- 
pointed, and victorious enemy, through a desponding country ; the 
inhabitants of which were much more disposed to secure safety by 
submission, than to seek it by manly resistance. It is said, that 
the march through New Jersey could actually be traced by the 
blood which their lacerated feet left upon the snow or the soil. 

" Wliile General Washington was retreating through New Jersey, 
he almost daily earnestly desired General Lee to hasten his march 
towards the Delaware, and join the main army. But that officer, 
notwithstanding the critical nature of the case, and the pressing 
orders of his commander, was in no haste to obey. Reluctant 
to give up his separate command, and subject himself to supe- 
rior authority, he marched slowly to the southw^ard at the head of 
between three and four thousand men ; and his sluggish move- 
ments and unwary conduct proved fatal to his own personal liberty, 
and excited a lively sensation throughout the whole country. Lying 
carelessly, and with but a small guard, at some distance fi*om his 
troops, at a house called White's Tavern, near Baskenbridge, in 
Morris County, he was surprised by Colonel Harcourt, and carried 
off a prisoner to New York. For some time he was closely con- 
fined, and considered, not as a prisoner of war, but as a deserter 
from the British army. The command of his division devolved 



260 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

upon General Sullivan, who, towards the end of December, con- 
ducted it across the Delaware to General Washington's army. At 
the same time. General Gates, with part of the army of Canada, 
arrived in camp." 

Before Washington retreated across the Delaware, a proclamation 
was issued by Admiral and General Howe, as commissioners 
appointed on the part of the crown for restoring peace to America ; 
commanding all persons assembled in arms against his majesty's 
government, to disband and return to their homes ; and all civil 
olficers to desist from their treasonable practices, and relinquish 
their usurped authority. A fdl pardon was also offered to every 
person who would, within sixty days, appear before certain civil 
or military ofhcers of the crown, and claim the benefit of that pro- 
clamation, and, at the same time, testify his obedience to the laws, 
by subscribing a declaration of his submission to the royal autho- 
rity. Copies of this proclamation were immediately dispersed 
through the country, after vvhich, many sought peace and pardon 
by accepting the offers of the British commissioners. 

The firmness of Washington's mind was undisturbed by the 
misfortunes which had befallen him, or by the defection of those 
who ought to have supported the cause of freedom with their arms. 
The inflexible firmness, the majesty of his demeanor, at this critical 
juncture, exerted a powerful influence over the minds of many 
who would otherwise have despaired of the republic. The tempo- 
rary inaction which followed liis retreat over the Delaware, was 
embraced to lay again before Congress reiterated remonstrances 
against the fatal system of short enlistments. That body had ad- 
journed from Philadelphia on the 12th, to meet at Baltimore on the 
20th of December, leaving a committee of three members in Phila- 
delphia, with powers to transact such continental business as re- 
quired attention in that city. Before their adjournment they re- 
solved, that, until Congress should otherwise order, full power 
should be conferred on General Washington, to order, and direct 
all things relative to the department, and to the operations of war. 
Under this resolution, the general ventured to order three battalions 
of artillery to be immediately recruited ; but, thinking the exercise 
of the powers necessary to the existence of the army, and the pro- 
secution of the war, not fully authorized by this hasty resolution, 
passed in the hurry of adjournment, he addressed a letter to the 
President of Congress, on the 20th of December, in which he urged 
upon him the necessity of more particularly specifying the powers 
wich which he was intrusted, and enabling him to execute important 



DEMAND OF A STANDING ARMY. 261 

measures without consulting them. He says, "I think the design 
of General Howe is to possess himself of Philadelphia this winter, 
if possible ; and, in truth, I do not see what is to prevent him, as 
ten days more will put an end to the existence of our army. That 
one great point is to keep us as much harassed as possible, with 
a view to injure the recruiting service, and hinder a collection of 
stores and other necessaries for the next campaign, I am as clear 
in as I am of my existence. If, therefore, in the short interval in 
which we have to provide for, and make these great and arduous 
preparations, every matter that in its nature is self-evident is to be 
referred to Congress, at the distance of a hundred and thirty or forty 
miles, so much time must necessarily elapse as to defeat the end 
in view. 

'< It may be said, that this is an application for powers that are 
too dangerous to be intrusted. I can only add, that desperate dis- 
eases require desperate remedies ; and I, with truth, declare, that 
I have no lust after power ; but I wish, with as much fervency as 
any man upon this wide-extended continent, for an opportunity of 
turning the sword into the ploughshare. But my feelings, as an 
officer and a man, have been such as to force me to say, that no 
person ever had a greater choice of difficulties to contend with than 
I have. 

"It is needless to add, that short enlistments, and a mistaken 
dependence on militia, have been the origin of all our misfortunes, 
and the great accumulation of our debt. We find, sir, that the 
enemy are daily gathering strength from the disaffected. This 
strength, like a snow-ball, by rolling, will increase, unless some 
means can be devised to check effectually the progress of the ene- 
my's arms. Militia may possibly do it for a little while ; but in 
a little while, also, and the militia of those states which have 
been frequently called upon, will not turn out at all ; or if they 
do, it will be with so much reluctance and sloth as to amount to 
the same thing. Instance New Jersey ! Witness Pennsylvania ! 
Could any thing but the river Delaware have saved Philadelphia ? 
Can any thing (the exigency of the case indeed may justify it) be 
more destructive to the recruiting service, than giving ten dollars 
bounty for six weeks' service of the militia, who come in, you can- 
not tell how ; go, you cannot tell when ; and act, you cannot tell 
where ; consume your provisions, exhaust your stores, and leave 
you at last, at a critical moment ? 

"These, sir, are the men I am to depend upon, ten days hence; 
this is the basis on which your cause will, and must for ever depend, 



262 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. ^ 

till you get a large standing army, sufficient of itself to oppose the 
enemy. I therefore beg leave to give it as my humble opinion, 
that eighty-eight battalions are by no means equal to the opposition 
you are to make, and that a moment's time is not to be lost in 
raising a greater number — not less, in my opinion, and the opinion 
of my officers, than a hundred and ten. It may be urged that it 
will be found difficult enough to complete the first number. This 
may be true, and yet the officers of a hundred and ten battalions 
will recruit many more men than those of eighty-eight. In my 
judgment, this is not a time to stand upon expense; our funds are 
not the only object of consideration. The state of New York have 
added one battalion (I wish they had made it two) to their quota. 
If any good officers will offer to raise men upon continental pay 
and establishment in this quarter, I shall encourage them to do so, 
and regiment them when they have done it. If Congress disap- 
prove of this proceeding, they will please to signify it, as I mean it 
for the best. 

'< It may be thought that I am going a good deal out of the line 
of my duty, to adopt these measures, or advise thus freely. A 
character to lose, an estate to forfeit, the inestimable blessings of 
liberty at stake, and a life devoted, must be ray excuse." 

On the reception of this letter, the Congress, notwithstanding 
the extreme jealousy which many of the members entertained of 
military supremacy, were constrained, by the alarming aspect 
of affairs, to vest in General Washington for six months such 
powers as would have rendered him, in the days of old Rome, a 
military dictator. On the 27th of December, depending on the 
'< wisdom, vigour, and uprightness of General Washington," they 
passed a resolution vesting in him "full powers to raise and equip 
sixteen additional battalions of infantry ; to appoint their officers ; 
to raise, officer, and equip three thousand light horse, three regi- 
ments of artillery, and a corps of engineers, and to establish their 
pay ; to apply to any of the states for such aid of the militia as he 
should judge necessary; to form such magazines of provisions, and 
in such places as he should think proper ; to displace and appoint 
all officers under the rank of brigadier-general, and to fill up all 
vacancies in every other department of the i\.merican army ; to take 
whatever he might want for the use of the army, (if the owners 
would not sell it,) allowing a reasonable price for the same; to , 
arrest and confine persons who would refuse to take the continental j 
money, or who were otherwise disaffected to the American cause ; 
and return to the states of which they were citizens, their names, 



POWERS OF THE COMMANDER-IN-CHIEF. 263 

and the nature of their offences, together with the witnesses to 
prove them." 

Congress then addressed a circuhir to each of the states, inform- 
ing them of this resokition, and calHng upon them to give all pos- 
sible aid in raising such levies as the general should direct, and 
sending them with all possible despatch to head-quarters. 

These proceedings were communicated to Washington on the 
night of the 31st of December, and, on the next day, he replied as 
follows : 

" The confidence which Congress have honoured me with by 
these proceedings, has a claim to my w'armest acknowledgments. 
At the same time, I beg leave to assure them, that all my facuUies 
shall be employed to direct properly the powers they have been 
pleased to vest me with, and to advance those objects, and only 
those, which gave rise to this honourable mark of distinction. If 
my exertions should not be attended with the desired success, I 
trust the failure will be imputed to the true cause, the peculiarly 
distressed situation of our affairs, and the difficulties I have to 
combat, rather than to a want of zeal for my country, and the clo- 
sest attention to her interest, to promote which, has ever been my 
study." 

Before these Congressional proceedings, however, Washington 
had commenced active warfare. By the arrival of the troops under 
Sullivan and Gates, the army was increased to seven thousand men. 
It was stationed on the Pennsylvania side of the Delaware, near 
the falls of Trenton ; while the British army, secure in its superior 
numbers, was cantoned in Burlington, Bordentown, Trenton, and 
other towns, in New Jersey. General Howe seemed to be waiting 
patiently until the ice, which is generally strong enough at that 
period of the year, should supply his want of boats, and enable 
his army to cross to victory, and the comfortable winter quarters 
which he expected to find in Philadelphia. Their situation in New 
Jersey was not as comfortable as they wished, nor as it had been 
when they first entered that province. The Hessians had indulged 
in such wanton cruelty and open licentiousness, that the friendship 
which many of the inhabitants were inclined to show them, was 
now changed to enmity, and a general desire for revenge, for inju- 
ries and atrocities committed, seemed now to be the feeling which 
predominated in that state. On receiving information of the num- 
bers and different cantonments of the British troops, Washington 
observed: "Now is the time to clip their wings when they are so 
spread j" and he resolved to make a bold effort to check their 



264 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

progress. For this purpose, he formed the bold design of recross- 
ing the Delaware, and attacking the Hessian troops, which, to the 
number of fifteen hundred, were posted at Trenton. 

He formed his troops into three divisions, with orders simulta- 
neously to pass the Delaware at three different places, on the even- 
ing of the 25th of December, hoping to surprise the enemy after the 
festivities of Christmas. One division, under General Cadwallader, 
was to cross the river in the vicinity of Bristol, but failed through 
inattention to the state of the tide and of the river, as they could 
not land on account of the heaps of ice accumulated on the Jersey 
bank. The second division, under General Ewing, was to cross 
at Trenton ferry, but w^as unable to make its w^ay through the ice. 
The third, and main division, under the command of Washington 
in person, assisted by General Sullivan, and Greene, and Colonel 
Knox of the artillery, consisting of about twenty-four hundred 
men, accomplished the passage, with great difficulty, at McKonkey's, 
about nine miles above Trenton. The general had expected to 
reach the Jersey shore about midnight, and Trenton about five in 
the morning. But the difficulties arising from the accumulation of 
the ice were so great, that it was three o'clock in the morning before 
the artillery could all be got over, and nearly four, before the troops 
took up their line of march. He subdivided his detachment into 
two divisions, one of which, under General Sullivan, proceeded 
towards Trenton by the lower or river road, while the other, led 
by the commander-in-chief, took the upper or Pennington road. 

Washington's division reached the Hessian advanced posts at 
eight o'clock, which he instantly drove in ; and so equal had been 
the progress of the columns, that in three minutes afterwards, the 
firing on the river road announced the arrival of the other division. 
The advanced guards fell back in good order, keeping up a con- 
tinual fire, which effectually alarmed their comrades. Colonel Rahl, 
the commander, a very gallant officer, immediately drew out his 
forces in order, and prepared for a brave defence ; but early in the 
engagement he received a mortal wound, and his men, being severely 
galled by the American artillery, attempted to file off towards 
Princeton, but were checked by a body of troops thrown in their 
way. About six hundred escaped by the road leading to Borden- 
town. The remainder, finding themselves completely surrounded, 
and their artillery seized, laid down their arms and surrendered. 
The number which submitted was twenty-three officers, and eight 
hundred and eighty-six men. Between thirty and forty of the 
Hessians w^ere killed and wounded. Colonel Rahl was amonsr the 



BATTLE OF TRENTON. 267 

former, and several of his officers among the latter. Captain 
Washington, of the Virginia troops, and five or six of the Ameri- 
cans were wounded. Two were killed, and two or three were 
frozen to death. Had not the extreme severity of the weather for- 
bidden the other divisions to cross the Delaware, the result of this 
masterly stroke would doubtless have been to sweep away the 
British from all their posts on the Delaware, and thus establish a 
firm footing in the Jerseys. As it was, the general conchided for 
the time to forbear further aggressions, and recrossed the river with 
his prisoners, six pieces of artillery, a thousand stand of arms, and 
some valuable military stores. 

The effect of this victory was sudden and decisive. The spirits 
of the army revived, and with new confidence arose a new impulse. 
Those whose term of service was within four days of expiring, 
volunteered to continue ; and reinforcements began to arrive from 
the neighbouring towns of Pennsylvania and New Jersey. The 
rapine and dissoluteness of the British army, backed as it was by 
the daring of Washington, spurred to action all that there was of 
heart or virtue in the land. Washington, availing himself of every 
circumstance, quickened by such inspiring auguries, made a rapid 
provision for securing his prisoners, and in two days was again 
buffeting, as best he could, the sweeping waters of the Delaware 
with its burden of ice. He again marched to Trenton, and ordered 
Generals Mifflin and Cadwallader to join him on the 1st of January, 
1777 ; by whom his force was on that day increased to five thou- 
sand men. His plan was now to recover as much as possible of 
the territory which the British had overrun. 

The astonishment of the British general at this display of valour 
and enterprise in an army, which, in the midst of indigence and 
suffering, had been for weeks retiring, or rather flying, before his 
superior force, may be readily imagined. It taught him a useful 
lesson. He found that nothing short of absolute extermination 
would make them cease to be dangerous to him, and hostile to the 
government which he represented. Though in the depth of a 
severe winter, he found it necessary to recommence active opera- 
tions, and Lord Cornwallis, who was on the point of sailing for 
England, was ordered to leave New York and resume his command 
in the Jerseys. A combination of the different detachments of the 
British army was the instantaneous result. By rapid movements, 
impelled by revenge, they concentrated upon Trenton, where they 
arrived on the afternoon of the 2d of January, 1777. 

Washington, with his inferior force, drew up his men behind 



268 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

Assumpinck Creek, a narrow stream running through the town of 
Trenton. The contending forces thus occupied the same village ; 
both were posted on sloping ground, and were divided only by a creek, 
ia many places fordable. This, Cornwallis attempted to cross at 
several places, but the vigilance of the guard frustrated his attempts, 
and he commenced a furious cannonade, which was deliberately 
returned by the Americans. The British, satisfied of their sirength 
and security, were the first to desist ; certain of engaging in a more 
decisive conflict at the dawn of the next day. But soon after mid- 
night, General Washington silently decamped, leaving his fires 
burning, his sentinels advanced, and small parties to guard the 
fords of the rivulet, and, by a circuitous route, proceeded towards 
Princeton. 

It was the most inclement season of the year, but the weather 
favoured his movement. For two days before, it had been warm, 
soft, and foggy; and great apprehensions were entertained, lest, by 
the depth of the roads, it should be found impossible to transport 
the baggage and artillery with the requisite celerity ; but about the 
time the troops began to move, (one o'clock in the morning of 
January 3d,) a sudden change in the weather happened. The wind 
shifted to the north-west, while the council of war, which was to 
decide on the ulterior operations, was sitting. An intense frost set 
in, and, instead of being obliged to struggle through a miry road, 
the army marched as on a solid pavement. The common soldiers 
considered the change of weather as an interposition of Heaven in 
their behalf, and proceeded on their way with alacrity. 

General Cornwallis, in his rapid march towards Trenton, had 
left three regiments, under Lieutenant-colonel Mawhood, at Prince- 
ton ; with orders to advance on the 3d of the month, to Maiden- 
head, a village about halfvi^ay between Princeton and Trenton. 
General Washington approached Princeton towards daybreak, and 
shortly before that time. Colonel Mawhood's detachment had begun 
to advance towards Maidenhead, by a road a little to the left of 
that on W'hich the Americans were marching. A small detached 
British guard discovered the advancing columns, and prevented a 
surprise. The British rushed forward, and a smart engagement 
instantly ensued. The Americans in the first shock quailed, and 
the head of the column fell back in disorder. The general hurried 
to the spot, broke through the mass of retreating men, and stood 
between pursuers and pursued — his horse's head towards the for- 
mer. This daring aroused the Americans to a sense of their duty. 
They wheeled about and met their assailants ; both fired while 



BATTLE OF PRINCETON. 269 

Washington stood between them ; but, by a remarkable interpo- 
sition of Providence, he remained unhurt. The conflict immedi- 
ately became general ; the Americans rushing headlong with the 
most desperate fury against the enemy, and the British defend- 
ing themselves with equal obstinacy. The issue, however, did 
not long remain doubtful. A party of the British fled into the 
college, and the seat of the muses became the scene of action ; but, 
after receiving a few discharges from the American field-pieces, they 
came out and surrendered themselves prisoners of war. Of the 
British, sixty were killed, among whom was Captain Leslie, son of 
the Earl of Leven ; a great number were wounded, and about three 
hundred taken prisoners. The remainder made their escape, some 
by pushing on to Trenton, others by returning to Brunswick. The 
Americans had fewer men killed ; but in this number was included 
General Mercer, a Scotch soldier who brought to the service of 
America a sterling devotion and rare abilities. 

On the appearance of daylight, General Cornwallis discovered 
that the American army had again eluded his grasp, and the firing, 
which he soon afterwards heard in the direction of Princeton, 
revealed to him at once the plans w^hich had been formed by 
Washington. The rapidity, success, and skill of the American 
evolutions filled his officers with a kind of awe. His fears were 
instantly excited for the safety of Brunswick, where magazines of 
great value had been collected. Breaking up his camp, he ad- 
vanced with rapidity towards that place, and was close on the rear 
of the American army before they could leave Princeton. 

General Washington now again found himself in a very perilous 
situation. His small army was exhausted with extreme fatigue, 
having been without rest, and ahnost without food for two days 
and two nights. He was closely pursued by an enemy, very supe- 
rior in point of numbers, well clothed, not harassed by want of 
sleep, and who must necessarily overtake him before he could 
accomplish his designs on Brunswick, if the least opposition should 
there be offered to him. Under these circumstances, he wisely 
determined to resume his Fabian pohcy, and abandon the remain- 
ing part of his original design. Accordingly, he took the road 
leading up the country to Pluckemin, breaking down the bridges 
over Millstone Creek, and otherwise opposing obstacles to the pur- 
suit of the enemy. Cornwallis, without attempting a pursuit of 
the retreating army, hastened to Brunswick, where he arrived the 
same day, and found that every exertion had been made for the 
removal of the baggage and the defence of the place. 

z2 



270 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

On that retrograde march, notwithstanding its rapidity, the British 
began to reap the harvest of their own insolence and rapacity. 
Sucli had been the brutahties practised by them, that, with the first 
ebb of their prosperity, rolled upon them the swift vengeance of 
those whom they had wantonly outraged. The militia of Jersey, 
its husbandmen and labourers, hung upon the steps of the retiring 
troops, and on every possible opportunity, wreaked full vengeance 
on the stragglers, for the insults, injustice, and oppression which 
had been meted out to them. 

After resting a few days at Pluckemin, General Washington fell 
back to Morristown, which is situated among hills difficult of 
access, having a fine country in the rear, and otherwise well situated 
for keeping open the communications with the New England states 
on the one side, and Philadelphia and Congress on the other. 

From this point, as his centre of operations, though it has been 
called his winter-quarters, he threw out deta(;hments which overran 
East and West Jersey, crossed the Raritan, and penetrated into 
the county of Essex, where they took possession of the coast oppo- 
site Staten Island. With a greatly inferior army, by judicious 
movements he thus wrested from the British almost all their con- 
quests in the Jerseys. Brunswick and Amboy were the only 
posts remaining in their hands, and even in them they were not a 
little harassed and straitened. The American detachments were 
thus in a state of constant activity, frequently surprising and cutting 
off the British advanced guards, keeping them in perpetual alarm, 
and melting down their numbers by a desultory and indecisive 
warfare. 

The successful and brilliant enterprises which closed the cam- 
paign commenced at Long Island, at once raised the spirits and 
stimulated the courage of the Americans, and impressed the mind 
of the British general with the necessity of the utmost circumspec- 
tion, and with a high respect for the military talents of General 
Washington. 

The favourable effect produced on the minds of his countrymen 
by these operations, induced General Washington to issue a pro- 
clamation, for the purpose of counteracting that issued by General 
Howe. This was a seasonable and necessary step. Intimidated 
by the desperate aspect of American affairs when the American 
army retreated into Pennsylvania, many of the inhabitants of the 
Jerseys had taken advantage of General Howe's proclamation, 
promising them protection in their persons and property, and sub- 
mitted to the British authority ; but with respect to the promised 



SUCCESSFUL OPERATIONS. 273 

protection, they had been entirely disappointed. Instead of pro- 
tection and conciliation, they had been insulted by the rude inso- 
lence of a licentious soldiery, and plundered with indiscriminate 
and unsparing rapacity. General Washington's proclamation 
accordingly absolved the inhabitants from their engagements to 
Britain, and promising them protection on their submission to 
Congress. Many took advantage of this proclamation, and the 
militia of New Jersey afterwards did good service in the American 
cause. 

"Thus terminated the eventful campaign of 1776, which wit- 
nessed the heroic defence of Charleston in the south ; the evacua- 
tion of Canada in the north ; the operations of Washington in the 
Middle States, first at the head of a respectable force in Long 
Island ; subsequently defeated there, and on York Island ; his 
soldiers leaving him as soon as their terms of service had expired ; 
retreating through New Jersey, with what Hamilton has called the 
phantom of an army ; compelled to cross the Delaware ; turning, 
when it was confidently expected by the British that all his army 
would be disbanded, and inflicting severe wounds on their widely 
scattered forces ; and, in the end, acting on the offensive, and 
hunting them from place to place, until they are cooped up in New 
York, Amboy, and Brunswick. True, the British had taken pos- 
session of Rhode Island ; but it was of no advantage to them yet, 
nor at any period of the war ; and they were compelled to weaken 
their armies for the purpose of keeping a garrison there. And 
finally, notwithstanding the joy of the British at the capture of 
General Lee, the effects which they anticipated were not pro- 
duced on the American people ; and subsequent events showed 
them conclusively that they had not captured the American Pal- 
ladium." 

The success of Washington in the Jerseys enabled Congress to 
return to Philadelphia in the month of February. In the mean 
time, they had set in motion elsewhere agencies favourable to 
America. Convinced of the necessity of foreign relations, they 
resolved that commissioners should at once be sent to the courts 
of Spain, Vienna, Prussia, and Tuscany. The uneasiness, pride, 
jealousy, and hatred of England manifested by France, excited 
their strongest hopes. They used every means in their power to 
gain and cultivate the friendship of that great nation. They ap- 
pointed Benjamin Franklin, Silas Deane, and Arthur Lee, com- 
missioners to negotiate at Paris the preliminaries of friendly rela- 
tions between the two countries. Mr. Deane had already been 
35 



274 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

some time in Paris, and had had audiences of the foreign minister, 
but was unable to effect any thing decisive. By great exertions, 
and after many difficulties, he concluded an agreement with a 
French merchant, M. Beaumarchais, to ship for the United States 
clothing for twenty thousand men, thirty thousand muskets, one 
hundred tons of powder, two hundred brass cannon, twenty-four 
mortars, and a large quantity of military stores of all kinds. He 
undertook to supply these on credit, accepting Mr. Deane's security 
as the agent of Congress. Many obstacles interfered to prevent 
the transportation of these stores. The remonstrances of the Eng- 
lish minister, who kept spies on all the ports, constituted the chief 
difficulty. At length, Beaumarchais was able to despatch one 
vessel from Havre in the beginning of November. She arrived in 
New Hampshire in the following April, deeply needed, and loudly 
welcomed, as bearing a large supply of arms, ammunition, and 
clothing, for the opening campaign. 

Mr. Deane had also undertaken and concluded another negotia- 
tion of far more brilliant results. The young and adventurous 
Marquis de Lafayette proposed to him to volunteer his services, on 
the sole condition of obtaining the rank of a brigadier-general in 
the republican army. The proposal was acceded to, and the name 
and sword of Lafayette soon shed glory, destined to be lasting, on 
the War of Liberty. 

Early in December, Franklin and Lee arrived in Paris, to asso- 
ciate their address and ability with Mr. Deane, in obtaining the 
support, or at least the recognition of the court of Versailles. 
Hesitating assurances and equivocal promises were, however, all 
that could be then obtained. The commissioners, more than ever 
convinced that it is mature determination, aided by action and suc- 
cess, that can alone procure the sympathy and support of great 
powers, turned their thoughts elsewhere. They w^ere even induced 
to dissuade from his purpose the generous young warrior, who was 
about to peril life, fortune, and fame, in a sinking cause, by repre- 
senting to him that the scattered forces of America were flying 
through their native forests before the victorious and avenging 
army of England. But he was not to be disconcerted. At his 
own cost, he purchased a vessel to bear him from the land where 
he was born to greatness, that he might share in the success or fall 
of a weak, struggling people. In early spring, he gained the 
country of his ambition, and, with the rank of major-general, joined 
Washington's army. 

Another illustrious name, too, graced that muster-roll of war- 



PREPARATIONS FOR ANOTHER CAMPAIGN. 275 

riors — Count Pulaski, the gallant Pole, who, in the face of a Rus- 
sian army, bore away the miserable monarch of his nation to reign 
over a free people. But Stanislaus was unworthy of the crown and 
the nation ; and his deliverer now did battle in a better cause, and 
under happier auspices. 

The British ministry, in the mean time, became conscious of the 
wavering of France ; they saw dark heavy clouds on the political 
horizon, and they began to prepare for the swiftly coming storm. 
A large increase was made in both the army and navy, and on the 
assembhng of Parliament, on the 31st of October, 1776, the king, in 
his speech from the throne, stated to them that it would have given 
him much satisfaction to be able to inform them that the disturb- 
ances in the revolted colonies were at an end, and that the people 
of America, recovering from their delusion, had returned to their 
duty. Instead of this, however, so mutinous and determined was 
the spirit of their leaders, that they had openly abjured and re- 
nounced all connection ard communication with the mother coun- 
try, and had rejected every conciliatory proposition. Much mis- 
chief, he said, would accrue, not only to the commerce of Great 
Britain, but to the general system of Europe, if this treason were 
suffered to take root. The conduct of the colonies would convince 
every one of the necessity of the measures proposed to be adopted, 
and the past success of the British arms pronased the happiest 
results; but preparations must be promptly made for another cam- 
paign. He expressed a hope of the general continuance of tran- 
quillity in Europe, but, at the same time, he thought it advisable to 
increase the defensive resources at home. 

The replies to the speech were in the usual form, but amend- 
ments were moved in both houses of parhament. After a violent 
debate, in which the animosity of party was more discernible 
than any thing else, the amendment was rejected, two hundred 
and forty-two to eighty-seven, and ninety-one to twenty-six. 
During the session of parliament, some other attempts were made 
for adopting conciliatory measures ; but the influence of the min- 
istry was so powerful that they were all completely defeated, and 
the plans of the administration received the approbation and sup- 
port of parliament. 

Forty-five thousand seamen were ordered to be raised ; sixteen 
ships of war to be built ; and between six and seven millions of 
pounds sterling w^ere voted for the expenses of the army and navy 
during the coming year. Parliament then adjourned on the 13th 
of December, to meet again on the 21st of January, 1777. 



276 



LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 




HEAD-QUARTEaS AT MORRISTO'WN. 



CHAPTER XV. 



;am|jaigB ©f 3,5'5'5'= 



HE period while he was in winter quar- 
ters at Morristown, was passed by Gene- 
ral Washington in making every exertion 
for a vigorous prosecution of the coming 
campaign. He urged Congress to ap- 
point an additional number of general 
officers ; he wrote to the governors of 
the different states, urging them to raise 
and forward to head-quarters, with as 
much despatch as possible, the quotas of 
Iroops assigned to their respective states ; 
and at the same time he carried on a correspondence with General 
Howe, relating to exchange of prisoners. In February, at his 
earnest request. Congress appointed five additional major-generals, 




TREATMENT OF PRISONERS. 279 

and ten brigadiers. He was not as successful in his applications 
to the states, for we find that on the 9th of June, he could muster 
no more than seven thousand two hundred and seventy-one men 
fit for duty. Before the capture of General Lee, it had been agreed 
between Generals Washington and Howe, that their prisoners 
should be exchanged officer for officer of equal rank, soldier for 
soldier, and citizen for citizen, but affecting to consider General 
Lee a deserter from tlie British army, in which he had formerly 
held a Heutenant-colonel's commission, he was treated with great 
severity, the commander refusing to exchange him, even for six 
officers, and threatening to bring him before a court-martial, to 
answer the crime of desertion. When intelligence of this conduct 
was received by Congress, they passed a resolution declaring that 
Lieutenant-colonel Campbell, who had been captured in the bay 
of Boston, together wdth five Hessian field-officers, should be de- 
tained, in order that the treatment which General Lee should receive 
might be exactly inflicted upon their persons. A copy of their 
resolution was sent to the council of Massachusetts Bay, and they 
were desired to detain Lieutenant-colonel Campbell and keep him 
in close custody till the further orders of Congress. Hitherto, this 
officer had been treated civilly, but on receiving the order of Con- 
gress, the council of Massachusetts Bay sent him to Concord jail, 
and lodged him in a filthy cell, denying him even the privilege of 
walking about the prison-yard, and neither permitting the visits of 
his friends nor the attendance of a servant. 

Colonel Campbell, naturally conceiving that this rigorous treat- 
ment originated in some mistake of the local council, complained 
in dignified, but respectful terms, to General Washington, and, at 
the same time, sent through the Massachusetts council a statement 
of his treatment to General Howe. Washington immediately 
wrote to the council, enclosing them an extract of the colonel's 
letter, and the resolution of Congress respecting Colonel Campbell. 
Alluding to this resolution, he wrote : " By this you will observe, 
tliat exactly the same treatment is to be shown to Colonel Campbell 
and the Hessian officers, that General Howe shows to General 
Lee ; and as he is only confined to a commodious house, with 
genteel accommodations, we have no right or reason to be more 
severe upon Colonel Campbell, who, I would wish, should imme- 
diately, upon the receipt of this, be removed from his present situa- 
tion, and put into a house where he may live comfortably." 

On the next day, March 1st, he wrote to the President of Con- 
gress a strenuous remonstrance against this hasty and premature 



280 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

attempt at retaliation. "Retaliation," he said, "is certainly just, 
and sometimes necessary, even where attended with the severest 
penalties ; but, when the evils which may and must result from it 
exceed those intended to be redressed, prudence and policy require 
that it should be avoided. 

"From the best information I have been able to obtain. General 
Lee's usage has not been so disgraceful and dishonourable as to 
authorize the treatment decreed to those gentlemen, were it not 
prohibited by many other important considerations. His confine- 
ment, I believe, has been more rigorous than has been generally 
experienced by the rest of our officers, or those of the enemy, who 
have been in our possession ; but, if the reports received on that 
head be true, he has been provided with a decent apartment, and 
with most things necessary to render him comfortable. This is 
not the case with one of the officers comprehended in the resolves, 
if his letter, of which a copy is transmitted, deserves your credit. 
Here retaliation seems to have been prematurely begun ; or, to 
speak with more propriety, severities have been and are exercised 
towards Colonel Campbell, not justified by any that General Lee 
has yet received. 

"In point of policy, under the present situation of our affairs, 
this doctrine cannot be supported. The balance of prisoners is 
greatly against us ; and a general regard to the happiness of the 
whole should mark our conduct. Can we imagine, that our ene- 
mies will not mete the punishments, the same indignities, the same 
cruelties, to those belonging to us in their possession, that we im- 
pose on theirs in our power ? Why should we suppose them to 
possess more humanity than we have ourselves ? Or why should 
an ineffectual attempt to relieve the distresses of one brave, unfor- 
tunate man, involve many more in the same calamities .'' However 
disagreeable the fact may be, the enemy at this time have in their 
power, and subject to their call, near three hundred officers belong- 
ing to the army of the United States. In this number there are 
some of high rank ; and most of them are men of bravery and 
merit. The quota of theirs in our hands bears no proportion, being 
not more than fifty at most. Under these circumstances we should 
certainly do no act to draw upon the gentlemen belonging to us, 
and who have already suffered a long captivity, greater punish- 
ments than they have experienced and now experience. If we 
should, what will their feelings be, and those of their numerous 
and extensive connexions ? Suppose the treatment prescribed for 
the Hessians should be pursued, will it not establish what the 



TREATMENT OF PRISONERS. 281 

enemy have been aiming to effect by every artifice and the grossest 
misrepresentations ; I mean, an opinion of our enmity towards them, 
and of the cruel conduct they experience when they fall into our 
hands — a prejudice which we on our part have heretofore thought 
it politic to suppress, and to root out by every act of lenity and 
kindness ? It certainly will. The Hessians would hear of the 
punishment with all the circumstances of heightened exaggeration, 
would feel the injury without investigating the cause, or reasoning 
upon the justice or necessity of it. The mischiefs which may, and 
must inevitably flow from the execution of the resolves, appear to 
be endless and innumerable." 

While the American general was thus advocating the cause of 
humanity, the soldiers who were captured at Fort Washington 
were confined during the winter in New York, ill-lodged and badly 
fed. The provisions which they received were deficient in quan- 
tity, and of the worst quality. Many of them died of cold and 
hunger, and diseases contracted by being confined in close and 
unhealthy situations. Thus ungenerously treated, and driven 
almost to desperation, large bounties and tempting offers were held 
out to others to induce them to enlist in the British service, but 
they generally remained faithful to their country and their engage- 
ments under all their privations and sufferings. In the spring. 
General Howe sent some of them out for exchange, but they were 
so emaciated and sickly, so totally unfit for service in the field or 
camp, that General Washington refused to release an equal number 
of healthy British and Hessian prisoners, and such had been the 
good treatment received by them, that but few sick could be found. 
General Howe said that the refusal of the American general to 
exchange prisoners was a violation of the rule mutually agreed on 
between them ; and though he could not deny the facts, he con- 
tended that the prisoners were treated as well as his circumstances 
would permit, and so far from being barbarously used, they were 
provided with every thing which was necessary, and which their 
situation as prisoners of war allowed. Commissioners had been 
appointed on each side to settle the matter, but they could not 
agree. General Washington replied : 

"You must be sensible, that our engagement, as well as all 
others of the kind, though in the letter it expresses only an 
equality of rank and number, as the rule of exchange ; yet neces- 
sarily implies a regard to the general principles of mutual compen- 
sation and advantage. This is inherent in its nature, is the voice 
of reason, and no stipulation as to the condition in which prisoners 
36 2 a2 



282 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

should be returned, was requisite. Humanity dictated that their 
treatment sliould be such as their health and comfort demanded ; 
and, where her laws have been duly respected, their condition has 
been generally good. Nor is this the language of humanity alone; 
justice declares the same. The object of every cartel, or similar 
agreement, is the benefit of the prisoners themselves, and that of 
the contending powers. On this footing, it equally exacts, that 
they should be well treated, as well as that they should be ex- 
changed. The reverse is, therefore, an evident infraction, and 
ought to subject the party, on whom it is chargeable, to all the 
damage and ill consequences resulting from it. Nor can it be 
expected, that those unfitted for future service by acts of severity, 
in direct violation of a compact, are proper subjects for an ex- 
change. In such case, to return others not in the same predica- 
ment, would be to give without receiving an equivalent ; and 
would aflTord the greatest encouragement to cruelty and inhumanity. 
The argument, drawn from the mere circumstance of the prisoners 
having been received, is of no validity. Though, from their 
wretched situation, they could not, at that time, be deemed proper 
for an exchange, yet our humanity required that they should be 
permitted to return among us. 

"It may, perhaps, be fairly doubted, whether an apprehension 
of their death, or that of a great part of them, did not contribute 
somewhat to their being sent out when they were. 

" Such an event, whilst they remained with you, would have 
been truly interesting ; because it would have destroyed every 
shadow of claim for a return of the prisoners in our hands, and 
therefore, policy, concurring with humanity, dictated that the 
measure should be adopted. Happy had it been, if the expe- 
dient had been thought of before these ill-fated men were reduced 
to such extremity. It is confessed, however, on all sides, that, 
after their delivery, they still continued your prisoners, and would 
be so till regularly exchanged. 

"I acknowledge, that I should, and I have been always willing, 
notwithstanding this concession, to account for every man who 
was in a proper condition and fit to be exchanged at the time he 
came out, so far as the proportion of prisoners with us would 
extend. With what propriety, or upon what foundation of justice 
can more be demanded ? This has been proposed, or, what is the 
same, was most clearly implied in the first article or objection made 
by Lieutenant-colonel Harrison, and illiberally rejected since, «as 
inconsistent with any degree of reason or common sense.' Painful 



OPENING OF THE NEXT CAMPAIGN. 283 

as it is, I am compelled to consider it as a fact not to be ques- 
tioned, that the usage of our prisoners whilst in your possession, of 
the privates at least, ^Yas such as could not be justified. This was 
proclaimed by the concurrent testimony of all who came out ; their 
appearance sanctioned the assertion ; and melancholy experience, 
in the speedy death of a large part of them, stamped it with infal- 
lible certainty." 

These difficulties continuing, interrupted the free exchange of 
prisoners until near the middle of the month of July, when an officer 
fell into the hands of the Americans, of sufficient rank to induce 
General Howe to exchange General Lee for him. This removing 
one ground of the controversy between the two commanders, and 
the British general being induced to pay more attention to the 
condition of his prisoners, the causes of complaint were in some 
measure removed, though not wholly eradicated, until the final 
conclusion of the war. 

As the spring opened. General Howe remained in some uncer- 
tainty with respect to reinforcements expected from Europe. 
Arriving, as they did, later, and in smaller numbers than had been 
anticipated, he was compelled, though he could number four times 
as many men fit for duty as Washington, to remain for some time 
in comparative inactivity ; and, when the season for action could 
no longer be safely postponed, he was obliged to curtail the plans 
which he had formed the preceding autumn. 

In order somewhat to remove the appearance of entire idleness, 
he determined to attempt the destruction of the stores collected by 
the Americans at Peekskill, Danbury, and other points to the east- 
ward. Colonel Bird, with five hundred men, was detached against 
Peekskill on the 23d of March, under convoy of a frigate, two ships, 
and two brigs, and some smaller armed vessels. The place was 
garrisoned by two hundred and fifty men, unxler General McDou- 
gall, who receiving timely notice of the approach of the enemy, 
and accurate information with respect to their numbers, he exerted 
himself to remove the stores to places of greater safety ; but before 
he had removed them all, the enemy landed with four pieces of 
artillery, and he retreated to the hills beyond the town, giving direc- 
tions for destroying such stores as could not be removed. At the same 
time, he sent an express to Lieutenant-colonel Willett, ordering 
him to leave a subaltern's command at Fort Constitution, and march 
with the remainder of his small force to his assistance. The British 
kept possession of the town until the next day, when the^' sent out 
a detachment to take possession of a piece of high ground flanked 



284 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

by a wood between the town and the position taken by General 
McDougall. There, in the afternoon, they were attacked by Colonel 
Willett's detachment, and a smart skirmish ensued, which ended 
in the retreat of the British party to the main body. In the even- 
ing, favoured by the light of the moon, but galled by the fire of the 
Americans, the whole party embarked, and returned down the river. 
Nine of the enemy were killed or wounded in the skirmish with 
Willett, and four were killed at the creek, while attempting to set 
fire to the boats. The Americans had one man mortally wounded 
by a cannon-ball. The loss of provisions and stores destroyed by 
order of General McDougall, was considerable, and in this way the 
British partly succeeded in their design. 

Another expedition was projected soon after against Danbury, 
in Connecticut, where a considerable amount of military stores had 
been collected. Though this place was within twenty miles of the 
Sound, so much dependence was placed on the neighbouring militia, 
and the help which they would be able to obtain from detachments 
passing through the town from the eastward, that no regular guard 
was stationed there for the protection of the stores. There were 
actually but fifty regulars, and one hundred militia, under Colonel 
Huntington, in the place, when the British made their appearance 
on the afternoon of the 26th of April. They numbered two thou- 
sand men, and were commanded by Governor Tryon, who had 
recently been appointed major-general of the provincials in the 
British service. Being unable to make any effectual resistance. 
Colonel Huntington carried off part of the stores, and retired from 
the town. General Tryon landed his army of tories at Campo, 
between Fairfield and Norwalk. Being unexpected, he proceeded 
without opposition to Danbury, which, with the stores contained in 
it,' they set on fire and destroyed. In the mean time the alarm had 
spread. General Silliman, an officer of the Connecticut militia, 
saw the landing, called together as many men as he could, and 
the same evening sent forward a small party, who came upon the 
enemy and had a smart skirmish with their advanced guard. The 
next morning, he marched in pursuit with all the men he could 
muster. Near Reading, he was joined by Generals Arnold and 
Wooster, who increased his numbers to six hundred men. They 
proceeded that night through a heavy rain to Bethel, about eight 
miles from Danbury, where, hearing that the town was destroyed, 
they rested their weary followers till daybreak. Then, hearing 
that the British were retreating towards the coast, they divided 
their forces, and Wooster, with two hundred men, took a route by 



SKIRMISHES WITH THE BRITISH. 285 

which he might harass their rear. While Arnold and Sillinian, 
crossing the country, took post in their front, at Ridgefield. Gene- 
ral Wooster, being reinforced by Colonel Huntington, soon fell in 
with the rear of the enemy, and in a skirmish received a mortal 
wound. WTien Arnold arrived at Ridgefield, his numbers were 
increased to five hundred. Taking a position across the road, he 
threw up a breastwork, behind which he awaited the approach of 
the enemy. They arrived about three o'clock in the afternoon. A 
smart engagement ensued, which continued nearly an hour, when 
Arnold was compelled to give way ; and the British troops, quite 
exhausted, spent the night on their arms at Ridgefield. During 
this engagement, Arnold's horse was killed under him, and he 
saved himself by drawing his pistol and shooting a soldier, who, 
having discharged his musket, was rushing upon him with his 
bayonet. 

On the morning of the 28th, the British renewed their retreat, 
but they were immediately assailed by an irregular but destructive 
fire of musketry from houses, and from behind stone fences. Arnold 
being joined by some continental artillery and infantry, he kept up 
a continual skirmishing and cannonading until five in the afternoon, 
when the enemy reached a hill near their ships, and made a des- 
perate stand. The Americans charged them with intrepidity, but 
were repulsed by superior numbers. The British, taking advan- 
tage of this, re-embarked in haste and sailed for New York. 
Nearly four hundred of the British were killed, wounded, or taken 
prisoners ; while the loss of the Americans did not exceed one- 
third of that number. The loss of General Wooster was severely 
felt, and Congress ordered a monument to be erected to his 
memory. General Arnold also deserved and obtained the thanks 
of Congress. They resolved that a horse fully caparisoned should 
be presented to him in place of the one shot under him on the 
27th, and another which had been wounded by a ball through his 
neck on the 28th. The people of New England gave no encourage- 
ment to the repetition of these hostile visits. 

"The British troops were not permitted to carry on their sudden 
incursions and predatory attacks without retaliation. On the 8th 
of May, General Stevens, with a considerable force, attacked the 
British post at Piscataway, where the 42d regiment was stationed ; 
but, after a furious engagement, he was repulsed. A considerable 
quantity of grain, forage, and other necessaries for the use of the 
royal army were collected at Sagg Harbour in Long Island, where 
they were but slightly guarded, as the number of British cruisers 



286 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

in the Sound seemed to secure them from all danger. Of these 
circumstances the American General Parsons gained information ; 
and, on the 23d of May, he detached Colonel Meigs, with a party 
of one hundred and seventy men, who left Guilford in Connecticut, 
at one o'clock afternoon, crossed the Sound in thirteen whale boats, 
attended by three sloops ; landed on the north part of the island 
near Southold, at six o'clock in the evening ; carried his boats 
over a neck of land ; re-embarked, and crossed the bay between 
the north and south parts of the island, and, at twelve o'clock at 
night, landed within four miles of Sagg Harbour. Leaving his 
boats under the protection of a slender guard, he advanced silently 
towards the place of destination, began the attack with fixed 
bayonets. The alarm soon became general, and a discharge of 
musketry on both sides ensued ; but the Americans succeeded in 
burning the stores and twelve vessels. They also killed six men, 
took ninety prisoners, and only six of the party who guarded the 
place escaped. Colonel Meigs, without having a man either killed 
or wounded, returned with his prisoners to Guilford, where he 
arrived at two o'clock on the 24th ; having, in the space of twenty- 
five hours, traversed by sea and land no less than ninety miles. 

"When mentioning these achievements of desultory warfare, I 
may here relate another enterprise of the same kind, although it 
did not happen till the 10th of July, — the capture of General 
Prescott. That officer was commander of Rhode Island, and had 
his head-quarters on the west side of the island, near Narraganset 
Bay, about a quarter of a mile from the shore, and at some dis- 
tance from any body of troops. He was but slightly guarded, . 
trusting chiefly for security to the numerous cruisers, and to a 
guard ship which lay in a bay opposite to his quarters. Colonel 
Barton, at the head of forty men, officers and volunteers, passed by 
night from Warwick Neck to Rhode Island ; and although they 
had a passage of ten miles by water, yet, by keeping near the land, 
they eluded the vigilance of the British ships of war and guard 
boats which surrounded the island. They conducted their enter- 
prise with such silence and address, that, about midnight, they 
reached the general's quarters undiscovered, secured the sentinel, 
surprised the general in bed, and, without giving him time to put 
on his clothes, hurried him on board with one of his aids-de-camp, 
and conveyed him safely to Providence. This event was very 
mortifying to General Prescott, and to the royal army ; but occa- 
sioned much exultation among the Americans. Hitherto, General 
Howe had absolutely refused to release General Lee, but he soon 



HOWE'S MANCEUVRES. 287 

agreed to exchange him for General Prescott ; and General Lee 
again joined the American army."* 

On the arrival of the time for active operations, the forces of 
General Howe amounted to about thirty thousand men, well equipped 
and provided ; while the army under Washington numbered, as 
we have seen, only about seven thousand three hundred men fit for 
duty. During the winter his army had been extremely weak ; but 
during the months of April and May, the new levies began to 
come in, and his numbers were so much increased that he advanced 
towards Brunswick, and posted his army upon the strong country 
about Middlebrook, in such a position that they would be able to 
move at a moment's notice, either towards the Hudson or the 
Delaware, or, if necessary, fall back without loss to their fortified 
encampment at Morristown. He took this position in the expecta- 
tion that General Howe would either attempt to gain the North 
river, and by taking possession of the Highlands, cut off all sup- 
plies from the Eastern States, or renew the plan of the last cam- 
paign, and march through the Jerseys to Pennsylvania. 

Calling in all his detachments, General Howe assembled his 
army at Brunswicjc on the 12th of June, but aware of the strength 
of the American position, and judging it unadvisable to attack his 
adversary there, he tried every expedient, and employed every 
artifice to draw him into less advantageous ground. For this pur- 
pose, he first formed his army into two strong columns, and marched 
towards the Delaware as far as Middlebush and Hillsborough. 
Washington saw through the designs of the British general, and 
kept possession of his camp, sending out skirmishing parties to 
harass and annoy his adversary's march, 

Howe's next manoeuvre was to commence an apparently preci- 
pitate retreat. Accordingly, on the night of the 19th of June, he 
abandoned his advanced position, returned to Brunswick, and in a 
short time, retiring to Amboy, he threw a bridge over the channel 
separating the main land from Staten Island, and conveyed over it 
his heavy baggage and part of his troops. Washington detached 
General Greene with some light parties to annoy the rear of the 
enemy, and moved his strong camp from Middlebrook to Quibble- 
town, which is six or seven miles nearer to Amboy. Lord Stir- 
ling's division was advanced a few miles lower, in order to co- 
operate with General Green, should the retreat from Amboy leave 
any point exposed. 

In this state of things, General Howe thought it practicable to 

* Western World, vol. i. 236—238. 



288 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

bring the inferior force of Washington to an engagement in an open 
field, or at least to gain possession of the high lands to the left of 
his position, and thus compel him to abandon Middlebrook, and 
fall back towards Morristown. With this view, on the night of the 
25th, he recalled the troops which had passed over to Staten Island, 
and very early the next morning the whole British army in two 
columns moved rapidly to Westfield. The right, imder the com- 
mand of Lord Cornwallis, fell in with Lord Stirling's division about 
seven o'clock in the morning, and a smart engagement ensued, 
which gave General Washington timely notice of, his danger, and 
the whole army fell back hastily towards the mountains, regained 
the camp, and a detachment took possession of the heights to the 
left, which it was supposed the enemy had designed to seize. 
Lord Stirling's division, after some smart skirmishing, fell back 
with but little loss ; and Lord Cornwnllis, perceiving the passes in 
the mountains guarded, and the skilful plans of his commander 
again completely overturned by the American Fabius, returned to 
Amboy, and the whole army crossed over to Staten Island, and 
began to embark in transports, to proceed to some more assailable 
point of the coast. 

It was difficult for Washington to ascertain the designs of the 
enemy. The whole coast of the United States was open to him, 
and he might sail to any part of it widi far greater rapidity than he 
could be followed. To add to this uncertainty, a letter from Gene- 
ral Schuyler informed him that Burgoyne was advancing from 
Canada with a large army against Ticonderoga. This seemed to 
render it probable that General Howe's intention was to move up 
the Hudson River, and co-operate with General Burgoyne, and 
under this impression he moved a part of his army towards the 
Highlands by the way of Morristown, and advancing as far as the 
Clove, detached Lord Stirling to occupy Peekskill. Another por- 
tion of the army was stationed at Trenton, to be in readiness, if 
necessary, to protect Philadelphia. 

While in this state of uncertainty, he received information that 
General Howe had, on the 23d of July, sailed from Sandy Hook, 
having with him sixteen thousand men, in a fleet of two hundred 
and sixty-seven vessels. Still, the destination of this fleet was un- 
certain, some reporting that it had sailed towards the north, and 
others towards the south. Apprehending that the whole movement 
might be a feint, to put him off his guard, and open a passage up 
the Hudson, he prepared every thing for moving with celerity. At 
this juncture a letter purporting to be from Howe to Burgoyne was 



HOWE'S MANOEUVRES. 289 

intercepted, and carried to head-quarters. It affected to give 
information that Howe's army was destined for New Hampshire, 
where a junction was advised ; but so clumsily was the intended 
deception veiled on the face of this letter, that one hour after its 
reception, the army was in full march southward. The different 
divisions pursued different routes and concentrated on the banks of 
the Delaware, where the general was informed that the enemy's 
fleet had appeared off the capes of the Delaware. Its destination 
was no longer doubtful, and the troops were thrown across the 
Delaware, and stationed first at Germantown, where they would be 
at hand to defend Philadelphia, while Washington himself has- 
tened forward to Chester. There he was informed that the fleet 
had left the Delaware Bay and steered towards the east. This 
again left him in suspense, and he naturally concluded from the 
reported course of the fleet, that General Howe would either go 
directly back to New York, or land at some port in New England, 
perhaps at Boston, and co-operate with Burgoyne. Till this point 
should be settled by certain information, nothing could be deter- 
mined upon. Detaching Sullivan into New Jersey, Washington 
with the main army remained at Germantown, until the 22d of 
August, when he was relieved from his painful suspense by the 
intelligence that the fleet was ascending the Chesapeake. 

It was during this period of comparative inaction that Washing- 
ton first became acquainted with Lafayette. This young noble- 
man having offered his services as a volunteer without compensa- 
tion, he was appointed by Congress, on the 31st of July, a major- 
general in the Continental army. His first interview with the 
commander-in-chief took place at a dinner-party in Philadelphia, 
where there were many officers and several members of Congress 
present. When the party was about to separate, Washington took 
him aside, invited him to consider himself as one of his family, and 
to make the head-quarters of the army his home during his residence 
in the country. The invitation was gladly accepted, and the young 
French nobleman immediately entered upon his duties, and ever 
after kept up a close intimacy with the commander-in-chief. 

As soon as certain information of the destination of the British 
fleet was received. General Washington put his army in motion, 
and about seven o'clock on the morning of the 24th of August 
marched through Philadelphia, passing down Front Street, and up 
Chesnut Street, and proceeded without delay by the way of Chester, 
to Wilmington. From that time, for two weeks, he was incessantly 
37 2 B 



290 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

engaged in thoroughly reconnoitering the country between Phila- 
delphia and the Chesapeake. 

The British army debarked below the head of the Elk, a few 
days' march from Philadelphia. On landing, General Howe issued 
a proclamation, promising pardon and protection to all who would 
submit to him, but it seems to have produced but little effect. 
The American forces were thrown forward a few miles to Red Clay 
Creek, and their pickets advanced to Christiana bridge, towards 
which the enemy advanced on the 3d of September. 

As the royal troops advanced, it became evident that Howe's 
design was to gain the right of the American army. To counteract 
this attempt, Washington fell back until he crossed the Brandywine 
Creek, and, taking post wuth his main body, opposite Chad's Ford, 
ordered General Sullivan, with a detachment, to watch the fords 
above. He sent General Maxwell with about a thousand light 
troops, to occupy the high ground on the other side of the Brandy- 
wine, to skirmish with the British, and retard their progress. 

General Washington distinctly understood the nature of the con- 
test in which he was engaged ; and sensible of the inferiority of 
his raw and undisciphned army to the veteran troops under General 
Howe, he wished to avoid a general engagement; but aware of the 
effect which the fall of Philadelphia, without an effort to save it, 
would produce on the minds of the people, he determined to com- 
ply with the wishes of Congress in this instance, against his own 
judgment, to make a determined effort to retard the progress and 
defeat the aim of the royal army. 

On the morning of the 11th of September, the British army 
advanced in two columns ; the right, under General Knyphausen, 
marched by the direct road towards Chad's Ford ; the left, under 
Lord Cornwallis, accompanied by the commander-in-chief, and 
Generals Grey, Grant, and Agnew, proceeded by a circuitous route 
towards the forks of the Brandywine, with the intention of turning 
the right of the Americans, and gaining their rear. 

General Knyphausen's van soon found itself opposed to the light 
troops under General Maxwell. A smart conflict ensued. The 
British advanced guard being reinforced, drove the Americans 
across the creek, and Knyphausen commenced a heavy fire of 
artillery, which was returned with warmth by the American bat- 
teries. He made no attempt to cross, though small parties cross- 
ing over skirmished on both sides. 

Meanwhile, the left wing of the British crossed the fords above 
the forks. Information of this movement was conveyed to Wash- 



BATTLE OF BRANDYWINE. 



291 




HE A.D-QnABTK RS AT B R A N D T -W I N : 



ington by General Sullivan about noon, who immediately ordered 
Sullivan, with the right wing, to attack the enemy's column on its 
progress down the north side of the Brandywine, while he himself 
prepared for the daring measure of recrossing the creek with his 
centre and left, and attacking Knyphausen's division. While 
issuing orders for the execution of these plans, the information 
which had led to them was contradicted, and those already given 
were countermanded. 

In the midst of this uncertainty, Lord Cornwallis crossed the 
creek by Trimble's and JefTeris' Fords, and took the road to Dil- 
worth. The alarm reached Washington. The brigades of Stephen, 
Stirling, and Sullivan, under the command of the latter, were pushed 
forward to Birmingham meeting-house ; General Wayne was left 
to defend the passage at Chad's Ford, while Washington, with 
General Green's division, took an intermediate position, in order to 
aid either Wayne or Sullivan, as circumstances might require. 
About two o'clock in the afternoon, Cornwallis's division reached 
Osborne's Hill, where they halted and dined, having in the course 



292 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

of the morning marched thirteen miles. Before they again fell in, 
the forces of the Americans were seen forming upon the brow of 
the opposite hill at Birmingham meeting-house. Their movements 
and manner of forming were admired and praised by Cornwallis, 
who, with Howe and the field-officers, occupied the summit of 
Osborne's Hill. Sullivan's left extended towards the Brandywine, 
his artillery was judiciously posted, and his right was forming 
across the road intended to be covered on the right flank by the 
woods. Before the right had fully formed, however, the attack was 
commenced with impetuosity by a party of Hessians, who crossed 
the street road in front of the American position, and resting their 
muskets upon the fence, fired upon the American outposts. In 
half an hour, about four o'clock, the attack became general ; and 
for some time the Americans sustained it with intrepidity, but at 
length began to give way on the extreme right, where General 
Deborre, a French officer who had lately entered the service, com- 
manded. In attempting to rally them, Lafayette was wounded in 
the leg. General Sullivan's brigade, which, on the retreat of the 
right, was in some degree outflanked also, began to give way. 
Sullivan, using every exertion to rally them, threw himself, with 
Stirling and Lafayette, personally into the conflict, and a most 
heroic stand was made, these officers continuing to maintain their 
ground until the American forces were completely broken, and the 
enemy within twenty yards of them, when they escaped by taking 
to the woods. 

Wlien General Washington heard the firing to the right, he 
ordered General Green, with his brigade, to support General Sulli- 
van. Green marched four miles in forty minutes, but, on reaching 
the scene of action, he found Sullivan's division defeated and 
fleeing in confusion. He covered their retreat, and, taking an 
advantageous position, renewed the battle, arrested the progress of 
the enemy, and maintained his post until the darkness of night 
enabled him to withdraw, at the order of the commander-in-chief. 

As soon as General Knyphausen heard the firing of Cornwallis's 
division, he forced the passage of Chad's Ford, attacked the troops 
opposed to him, and compelled them to make a precipitate retreat 
towards Chester. 

The effective force of the Americans in this action did not exceed 
eleven thousand men, whilst Cornwallis's division alone amounted 
to thirteen thousand. 

General Howe reported his own loss to be ninety killed, four 
hundred and eighty-eight wounded, and six missing ; and that of 



SKIRMISH WITH THE BRITISH. 295 

the Americans, three hundred were killed, six hundred were 
wounded, and four hundred were taken. 

The American army retreated during the night to Chester, taking 
with them all their baggage and artillery, with the exception of ten 
small field-pieces and a howitzer. The next morning Washington 
retired to Philadelphia, where he remained one day, and then 
marched up the north side of the Schuylkill, crossed it at Swede's 
Ford, and proceeded again in the direction of the enemy. The 
two armies met on the 16th of September, twenty-three miles from 
Philadelphia, and the advanced parties had actually commenced 
an engagement, when a heavy rain rendered both parties unable 
to continue the action. Washington retired to the Yellow Springs, 
and on the 22d recrossed the Schuylkill near Pottsgrove. These 
operations will be best related in his own words, written in a letter 
to Congress on the 23d. That body had, after again increasing 
the powers of Washington, adjourned to Lancaster on the l8th, 
and on the 27th to York, where they met until the British evacuated 
Philadelphia. 

"I have not had the honour of addressing you," he says, " since 
your adjournment to Lancaster, and I sincerely wish that my first 
letter was upon a more agreeable subject. The enemy, by a 
variety of perplexing manoeuvres, through a country from which I 
could not derive the least intelligence, (being to a man disaffected,) 
contrived to pass the Schuylkill last night at Flatland, and other 
fords in the neighbourhood of it. They marched immediately 
towards Philadelphia, and I imagine their advanced parties will 
be near that city to-night. They had so far got the start before I 
received certain intelligence that any considerable number had 
crossed, that I found it in vain to think of overtaking their rear, with 
troops harassed as ours had been with constant marching since the 
battle of Brandywine ; and therefore concluded, by the advice of all 
the general officers, to march from this place to-morrow morning 
towards Philadelphia, and on the way endeavour to form a junction 
with the Continental troops under General McDougall from Peeks- 
kill, and the Jersey militia under General Dickinson, both of 
whom are, I hope, on this side of the Delaware. I am also obliged 
to wait for General Wayne and General Smallwood, who were left 
upon the other side of the Schuylkill, in hopes of falling upon the 
enemy's rear ; but they have eluded them as well as us. 

« When I last recrossed the Schuylkill, it was with a firm intent 
of giving the enemy battle wherever I should meet them ; and 
accordingly, I advanced as far as the Warren Tavern upon the 



296 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

Lancaster road, near which place the two armies were upon the 
point of coming to a general engagement, but were prevented by a 
most violent flood of rain, which continued all the day and follow- 
ing night. When it held up, we had the mortification to find that 
our ammunition, which had been completed to forty rounds a man, 
was entirely ruined, and in that situation we had nothing left for it 
but to find out a strong piece of ground, which we could easily 
maintain till we could get the arms put in order, and a recruit of 
ammunition. Before this could be fully eflfected, the enemy marched 
from their position near the White Horse Tavern, down the road 
leading to the Swedes' Ford. I immediately crossed the Schuylkill 
above them, and threw myself full in their front, hoping to meet 
them in their passage, or soon after they had passed the river. 
The day before yesterday they were again in motion, and marched 
rapidly up the road leading towards Reading. This induced me 
to believe that they had two objects in view, one to get round the 
right of the army, the other, perhaps, to detach parties to Reading, 
where we had considerable quantities of military stores. To frus- 
trate those intentions, I moved the army up on this side of the river 
to this place, determined to keep pace with them ; but early this 
morning I received intelligence that they had crossed the fords 
below. Why I did not follow immediately, I have mentioned in 
the former part of my letter ; but the strongest reason against being 
able to make a forced march is the want of shoes. Messieuj;s Car- 
roll, Chase, and Penn, who were some days wdth the army, can 
inform Congress in how deplorable a situation the troops are for 
want of that necessary article. At least one thousand men are 
barefooted, and have performed the marches in that condition. I 
was told of a great number of shoes in the hands of private people 
in Philadelphia, and sent down to secure them ; but I doubt the 
approach of the enemy will prevent it. 

"I have planned a method of throwing a garrison into Fort Mif- 
flin. If it succeeds, and they, with the assistance of the ships and 
galleys, should keep the obstructions in the river, General Howe's 
situation in Philadelphia will not be the most agreeable, for if his 
supplies can be stopped by water, it may be easily done by land. 
To do both shall be my utmost endeavour; and I am not yet 
without hope that the acquisition of Philadelphia may, instead of 
his good fortune, prove his ruin." 

On the 26th of September, General Howe entered and took pos 
session of Philadelphia without further opposition; and on the same 
day, commenced the erection of batteries near the river, to protect 



BATTLE OF GERMANTOWN. 297 

the place against such American vessels as might approach the 
shore. Commodore Hazlewood, being in command of two frigates, 
a sloop, and several galleys and gondolas on the river, commenced 
an attack on the unfinished batteries on the 27th. A warm can- 
nonade was kept up for some time, but on the falHng of the tide, 
one of the frigates, the Delaware, grounded within five hundred 
yards of the batteries, where, in her disabled condition, she was 
taken by the enemy. The other frigate, with the smaller vessels, 
returned to their former stations near Fort Mifflin ; and Cornwalhs 
opened a communication with the Jersey shore. 

The main body of the British army encamped outside the city, 
throwing up strong lines of intrenchment reaching from the Schuyl- 
kill towards the Delaware, occupying principally the village of 
Germantown, about four miles above the city. Not twenty miles 
off was Washington, with an army of about eleven thousand men, 
once more elate with hope and fresh vigour. Along the line of the 
Delaware, between Philadelphia and the British fleet, which had 
left the Chesapeake immediately after the battle of Brandywine, 
formidable preparations were made, on the one hand to open the 
river, and on the other to resist the attempt. Throughout the entire 
distance, almost at the same moment, the shock of war was felt. 
Indeed, from the Delaware to the St. Lawrence, raged one wide, 
wasting flame of war ; for, as Howe was approaching Philadelphia, 
Burgoyne, with a flushed army and savage allies, was descending 
the Hudson and threatening destruction to the Eastern States. 
But neither Congress nor Washington entertained the most distant 
thought of yielding. On the contrary, when the royal army was 
in a shght degree weakened by detachments sent to assist in 
removing the obstructions in the Delaware, General Washington 
made a warm attack on their encampment at Germantown. Ger- 
mantown consisted of but one street about two miles long ; the line 
of the British encampment bisected the village, almost at right an- 
gles and had its left covered by the Schuylkill. W^ashington 
marched from his encampment at Skippach Creek, about seven 
o'clock on the evening of the 3d of October, and the next morning 
approached the enemy in four divisions. By the order of battle, 
the divisions of Sullivan and Wayne, flanked by Conway's brigade, 
were to enter the town by way of Chestnut Hill ; while Armstrong 
with the Pennsylvania militia should approach the enemy's left 
wing by the Manatawny road, which ran along the side of the 
Schuylkill. The divisions of Greene and Stephen, flanked by 
McDougall's brigade, were to take a circuit by way of the Lime- 
'c8 



298 



LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 




CHB'W S HOUSK. 



kiln road, and entering the village near the market-house, attack 
the right wing ; while the mihtia of Maryland and Jersey, under 
Smallwood and Forman, were to march by the Old York road still 
further to the left, and fall upon the rear of the enemy's right.. 
Stirling, with the brigades of Nash and Maxwell, advanced in the 
rear of Sullivan by the Chesnut Hill road, and acted as a corps de 
reserve. 

The attack was commenced by General Sullivan about sunrise 
on the morning of the 4th of October. He drove in the advanced 
picket, and followed so close that he surprised the light infantry 
and fortieth regiment, which were encamped between Mount Airy 
and the village. After sustaining for a short time a sharp conflict, 
these forces, leaving their baggage, retreated into the village. In 
his retreat. Lieutenant-colonel Musgrave succeeded in throwing 
himself, with six companies of his regiment, into Chew's large stone 
house, which stood in front of Sullivan's column, and these two 
brigades were detained so long in endeavouring to dispossess them 
that the British had time to get under arms, and be in readiness to 
resist or attack, as occasion might require. 

Green's division attacked the enemy's right wing about three 
quarters of an hour after the battle began in the centre, and he also 
drove back the forces opposed to him. He was on the point of 
forming a junction with Sullivan's division, w^hen, actuated by some 
unaccountable impulse, the Americans began to give way, and 
retreated, carrying with them all their artillery. 

General Washington gave the following account of this action to 
his brother. " The enemy crossed the Schuylkill by stratagem, 
though I do not know that it was in our power to prevent it, as 
their manoeuvres made it necessary for us to attend to our stores, 



BATTLE OF GERMANTOWN. 299 

which lay at Reading, towards which they seemed bending their 
course, and the loss of which must have proved our ruin. After 
they had crossed, we took the first favourable opportunity of attack- 
ing them. 

<<This was attempted by a night's march of fourteen miles to 
surprise them, which we effectually did, so far as to reach their 
guards before they had notice of our coming ; and if it had not 
been for a thick fog, which rendered it so dark at times that we 
were not able to distinguish friend from foe at the distance of thirty 
yards, we should, I believe, have made a decisive and glorious day 
of it. But Providence designed it otherwise; for, after we had 
driven the enemy a mile or two, after they were in the utmost con- 
fusion, and flying before us in most places, after we were upon the 
point, as it appeared to everybody, of grasping a complete victory, 
our own troops took flight and fled with precipitation and disorder. 
How to account for this, I know not ; unless, as I before observed, 
the fog represented their own friends to them for a reinforcement 
of the enemy, as we attacked in different quarters at the same time, 
and were about closing the wings of our army when this happened. 
One thing, indeed, contributed not a little to our misfortune, and 
that was a want of ammunition on the right wing, which began the 
engagement, and in the course of two hours and forty minutes, 
which time it lasted, had, many of them, expended the forty rounds 
that they took into the field. After the engagement, we removed 
to a place about twenty miles from the enemy, to collect our forces 
together, to take care of our wounded, get furnished with necessa- 
ries again, and be in a better posture, either for offensive or defen- 
sive operations. We are now (October 15) advancing towards the 
enemy again, being at this time within twelve miles of them. 

"Our loss in the late action, was in killed, wounded, and 
missing, about one thousand men,* but of the missing, many, I 
dare say, took advantage of the time and deserted. General Nash, 
of North Carolina, was wounded and died two or three days after. 
Many valuable officers of ours were also wounded, and some killed. 
In a word, it was a bloody day. Would to heaven I could add, 
that it had been a more fortunate one for us." 

On the day after the battle, he wrote to Congress : "The morning 
was extremely foggy, which prevented our improving the advan- 
tages we gained so well as we should otherwise have done. This 
circumstance, by concealing from us the true situation of the enemy, 

* One hundred and fifty killed, five hundred and twenty-one wounded, and about 
four hundred prisoners. 



300 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

obliged us to act with more caution and less expedition than we 
could have wished ; and gave the enemy time to recover from the 
effects of our first impression ; and, which was still more unfortu- 
nate, it served to keep our different parties in ignorance of each 
other's movements, and hinder their acting in concert. It also occa- 
sioned them to mistake one another for the enemy, which, I believe, 
more than any thing else contributed to the misfortune that ensued. 
In the midst of the most promising appearances, when every thing 
gave the most flattering hopes of victory, the troops began suddenly 
to retreat, and entirely left the field, in spite of every effort that 
could be made to rally them." 

The large numbers of prisoners taken by the British was also in 
consequence of the fog. Colonel Matthews, having routed a party 
of the British opposed to him, and captured a hundred and ten of 
them, lost sight of the brigade to which he belonged, and approach- 
ing a large body of men in good order, was deceived, and think- 
ing they were the brigade to which he belonged, approached and 
was taken prisoner with his whole regiment, and the prisoners 
which he had previously taken were released. 

The British had six hundred men killed or wounded ; among 
the slain were Brigadier-general Agnew and Colonel Bird, both 
oflicers of distinguished reputation. 

Notwithstanding the ill success of this expedition, Congress 
expressed their approbation both of its plan and execution, and 
voted their thanks to the general and his army. 

Washington, having recruited his troops, returned towards the 
enemy and took a strong position at White Marsh before the end of 
October. His chief object was to attract the attention of the enemy 
to himself, and divert his strength from the operations against the 
forts on the Delaware. Howe understood and eluded this manoeu- 
vre, by withdrawing his entire force into the city, and thus concen- 
trating his full power against the forts. For nearly two months 
the operations on the river were conducted with varied success, the 
British being sometimes repulsed, and sometimes partially success- 
ful in their attacks on the American forts, Mifflin, on Mud Island, 
in the river, and Mercer, on Red Bank, on the Jersey side. Count 
Donop was despatched with a strong body of Hessians against the 
latter place. Crossing the river, he marched rapidly to the assault 
at the head of two thousand men. The fort was defended by 
Colonel Greene, with about five hundred men. Not being sufficient 
in number to man the outworks, he ordered the garrison to retard 
the approach of the enemy until they came close to the outworks, 



OPERATIONS ON THE DELAWARE. 301 

and then to retire within the second barrier. The besiegers leaped 
upon the deserted barricades with loud huzzas, which the garrison 
answered with a terrific fire. Peal upon peal came in quick suc- 
cession, and the enemy were compelled to stagger back over the 
corpses of their comrades. Count Donop remained on the ground 
mortally wounded. The second in "command fell, and the detach- 
ment, so confident a few hours before, retreated in dismay, without 
effecting any serious injury, but leaving at least four hundred of 
their number behind them either killed or wounded. 

Meanwhile, Fort Mifflin was attacked both by batteries on the 
shore and by shipping, and was battered incessantly from the 10th 
to the 16th of November. By that time, every defence was de- 
stroyed, and every cannon dismounted, so that ships could ap- 
proach so near as to enable the sailors to throw hand-grenades 
from their tops. The garrison was then ordered to quit the post ; 
and Red Bank being now no longer useful, was abandoned on the 
approach of Lord Cornwallis, with five thousand men, to invest it. 
Thus the fortifications of the Delaware being destroyed, the ob- 
structions in its channel were removed, and after six weeks of in- 
cessant eflfort and great loss, General Howe obtained command of 
the navigation of the Delaware, and thus opened a communication 
between the British fleet and his army in Philadelphia. 

General Washington's army at Whitemarsh was, in November, 
reinforced by part of the northern army, the campaign having 
closed in that quarter, by the capture of Burgoyne. The arrival 
of militia further increased his numbers, in the beginning of De- 
cember, to fourteen thousand men, which made it, in that respect, 
nearly equal to the British army under General Howe. But the 
difference in the quality and equipment of these two bodies gave 
an immense superiority to Howe. His men were veterans, accus- 
tomed to the most exact discipline and subordination, well armed, 
and abundantly supplied with military stores and other necessaries ; 
but the sokliers of Washington were mostly raw levies, and disor- 
derly militia, ill- disciplined, imperfectly armed, and strangers 
to military subordination. This inferiority induced Washington 
still to keep on the defensive, unless circumstances should be so 
much in his favor as to counterbalance its effects. Consequently, 
when the British army, on the 4th of December, marched from 
Philadelphia, and took post on Chesnut Hill, fronting his camp, 
he had too much prudence and too much patriotism to hazard the 
permanent liberty of his country on a single action, how great so- 
ever might be the lustre which its success might reflect upon his 

2C 



302 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

arms. The enemy took this position on the evening of the 4th, 
about three miles distant from the American right wing. On the 
5th, both armies sent out light parties to skirmish, but Washington 
was not to be enticed from the advantageous position which he then 
occupied. During the night of the 5th, the enemy changed their 
ground, and moved to the left of the American line, where, strongly 
posted, they remained quiet the whole of the next day. On the 
7th they advanced still farther towards the American left, and 
Colonel Morgan was detached to attack and skirmish with their 
advanced and flanking parties. About sunset, after various 
marches and countermarches, they halted, having taken such a 
position that General Washington concluded that they would at- 
tack him during the night, or early in the morning. Confident in 
the strength of his position, there was nothing M^hich he desired 
more. In this, however, he was mistaken. On the morning of 
the 8th, they again began to move, but instead of advancing, they 
filed off from their right, and retreated in such haste to Philadel- 
phia, that the parties detached by Washington to fall upon their 
rear, found it impossible to overtake them. In the several skir- 
mishes which occurred during the three days on which the two 
armies lay in front of each other, the British lost twenty men killed, 
sixty-three wounded, and thirty-three prisoners. On the side of 
the Americans, there were forty-three or forty-four men killed or 
wounded ; among the latter. Brigadier-general Irvine and Major 
Morris. 

The winter now set in with great severity, and the Americans 
were badly clothed, and almost destitute of blankets. Notwith- 
standing these privations, which seemed to render good winter 
quarters absolutely necessary, Washington determined to sacrifice 
the comforts which his troops had a right to expect, to the welfare 
of his country. He therefore led them to Valley Forge, a strong 
position on the Schuylkill, about twenty miles from Philadelphia, 
where they arrived on the 19th of December, when th^y immedi- 
ately commenced building for themselves log huts. These huts 
were each sixteen by fourteen feet, and were arranged in parallel 
lines, so far as the nature of the ground would admit. Twelve 
privates were quartered in one hut ; while one was assigned to 
the commissioned officers of every two companies ; one to the 
staff of each regiment; one to the field-officers of each regiment; 
one to the staff of each brigade ; and one to each general 
officer. 

On the 17th of December, General Washington issued his order 



THE ARMY AT VALLEY FORGE. 303 

for the retirement of his army to winter quarters. The concluding 
clause of this order deserves notice. It is in these words : 

« To-morrow, being the day set apart by the honourable Con- 
gress for public thanksgiving and praise, and duty calling us de- 
voutly to express our grateful acknowledgments to God for the 
manifold blessings he has granted us, the general directs that the 
army remain in its present quarters, and that the chaplains per- 
form divine service with their several corps and brigades ; and 
earnestly exhorts all officers and soldiers, whose absence is not 
indispensably necessary, to attend with reverence the solemnities 
of the day." 

The army retired to Valley Forge, and the soldiers cut down 
the trees, built their huts, and fortified their position, which they 
occupied till June, 1778 ; but notwithstanding all their exertions, 
they suffered extremely during the winter, both for food and cloth- 
ing. "It is with infinite pain and concern," said Washington, in 
a letter to Congress, as early as the 22d of December, " that I 
transmit the enclosed copies of sundry letters respecting the com- 
missary's department. In these, matters are not exaggerated. I 
do not know from what cause this alarming deficiency, or rather 
total failure of supplies, arises ; but, unless more vigorous exer- 
tions, and better regulations take place in that line immediately, 
this army must dissolve. I have done all in my power, by remon- 
strating, by writing, by ordering the commissaries on this head, 
from time to time ; but without any good effect, or obtaining more 
than a present scanty relief. Owing to this, the march of the army 
has been delayed, upon more than one interesting occasion, in the 
course of the present campaign ; and, had a body of the enemy 
crossed the Schuylkill this morning, as I had reason to expect, 
from the intelligence I received at four o'clock last night, the divi- 
sions which I ordered to be in readiness to march and meet them 
could not have moved." 

The following extracts from two of the letters to which the gene- 
ral alludes, and to which he referred the attention of Congress, and 
which he had received on the same morning on which he wrote 
the above letter, will give a sad but true account of the condition 
of the army at that early period of the winter cantonment. 

" I received an order," writes General Huntington, << to hold 
my brigade in readiness to march. Fighting will be by far pre- 
ferable to starving. My brigade are out of provisions, nor can the 
commissary obtain any meat. I am exceedingly unhappy in being 



304 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

the bearer of complaints to head-quarters. I have used every 
ar<^ument my imagination can invent, to make the soldiers easy, 
but I despair of being able to do it much longer." 

The other extract is from a letter from General Varnum. He 
writes : 

"According to the saying of Solomon, hunger will break through 
a stone wall. It is therefore a very pleasing circumstance to the 
division under my command, that there is a probability of their 
marching. Three days successively we have been destitute of 
bread. Two days we have been entirely without meat. The men 
must be supplied, or they cannot be commanded. The complaints 
are too urgent to pass unnoticed. It is with pain that I men- 
tion this distress. I know it will make your excellency unhappy ; 
but, if you expect the exertion of virtuous principles, while your 
troops are deprived of the necessaries of life, your final disappoint- 
ment will be great in proportion to the patience which now aston- 
ishes every man of human feeling." 

On the next day, December 23d, the general again wrote to 
Congress : 

"Full as I was in my representation of the matters in the com- 
missary's department, yesterday, fresh and more powerful reasons 
oblige me to add, that I am now convinced, beyond a doubt, that, 
unless some great and capital change suddenly takes place in that 
line, this army must inevitably be reduced to one or other of these 
three things : starve, dissolve, or disperse, in order to obtain sub- 
sistence in the best manner they can. Rest assured, sir, this is 
not an exaggerated picture, and that I have abundant reason to 
suppose what I say. 

'< Yesterday afternoon, receiving information that the enemy, in 
force, had left the city, and were advancing towards Derby, with 
the apparent design to forage, and draw subsistence from that part 
of the country, I ordered the troops to be in readiness, that I 
might give every opposition in my power ; when behold, to my 
great mortification, I was not only informed, but convinced, that 
the men were unable to stir on account of provisions, and that a 
dangerous mutiny, begun the night before, and which with diffi- 
culty was suppressed by the spirited exertions of some officers, 
was still much to be apprehended for want of this article. This 
brought forth the only commissary in the purchasing line in this 
camp ; and, with him, this melancholy and alarming truth, that 
he had not a single hoof of any kind to slaughter, and not more 
than twenty-five barrels of flour ! From hence form an opinion 



THE ARlftY AT VALLEY FORGE. 305 

of our situation, when I add, that he could not tell when to ex- 
pect any. 

*' All I could do, under these circumstances, was to send out a 
few light parties to watch and harass the enemy, whilst other parties 
were instantly detached different ways to collect, if possible, as much 
provision as would satisfy the present pressing wants of the sol- 
diery. But will this answer? No sir ; three or four days of bad 
weather would prove our destruction. What then is to become 
of the army this winter ? And if we are so often without provi- 
sions now, what is to become of us in the spring, w'hen our force 
will be collected, with the aid perhaps of militia to take advantage 
of an early campaign, before the enemy can be reinforced ? These 
are considerations of great magnitude, meriting the closest atten- 
tion ; and they will, when my own reputation is so intimately con- 
nected with the event, and to be affected by it, justify my saying, 
that the present commissaries are by no means equal to the execu- 
tion of the office, or that the disaffection of the people is past all 
belief. The misfortune, however, does, in my opinion, proceed 
from both causes ; and, though I have been tender heretofore of 
giving any opinion, or lodging complaints, as the change in that 
department took place contrary to my judgment, and the conse- 
quences thereof were predicted ; yet, finding that the inactivity of 
the army, whether for want of provisions, clothes, or other essen- 
tials, is charged to my account, not only by the common vulgar, 
but by those in power, it is time to speak plain in exculpation of 
myself. With truth, then, I can declare, that no man, in my opin- 
ion, ever had his measures more impeded upon than I have, by 
every department of the army. 

" Since the month of July, we have had no assistance from the 
quartermaster-general, and to want of assistance from this depart- 
ment the commissary-general charges a great part of his deficiency. 
To this I am to add, that notwithstanding it is a standing order, 
and ofi;en repeated, that the troops shall always have two days' 
provisions by them, that they might be ready on any sudden call ; 
yet an opportunity has scarcely ever offered, of taking an advantage 
of the enemy, that has not been either totally obstructed, or greatly 
impeded, on this account. And this, the great and crying evil, is 
not all. The soap, vinegar, and other articles allowed by Con- 
gress, we see none of, nor have we seen them, I believe, since the 
battle of Brandywine. The first, indeed, we have now little occa- 
sion for ; few men having more than one shirt, many only the 
39 2 c 2 



306 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

moiety of one, and some none at all. In addition to which, as a 
proof of the little benefit received from a clothier-general, and as 
a further proof of the inability of an army, under the circumstances 
of this, to perform the common duties of soldiers, (beside a num- 
ber of men confined to hospitals for want of shoes, and others in 
farmers' houses on the same account,) we have, by a field return, 
this day made, no less than two thousand eight hundred and 
ninety-eight men now in camp, unfit for duty, because they are 
barefoot, and otherwise naked. By the same return, it appears, 
that our whole strength in continental troops, including the eastern 
brigades, which have joined us since the surrender of General 
Burgoyne, exclusive of the Maryland troops sent to Wilmington, 
amounts to no more than eight thousand two hundred in camp, fit 
for duty ; notwithstanding which, and that since the 4th instant, 
our numbers fit for duty, from the hardships and exposures they 
have undergone, particularly on account of blankets, (numbers 
having been obliged, and still are, to sit up all night by fires, in- 
stead of taking comfortable rest in a natural and common way,) 
have decreased near two thousand men." 

A committee of Congress was appointed to proceed to Valley 
Forge, and take measures for the relief of these pressing wants, 
but during the whole winter and the ensuing spring, they continued 
almost unmitigated, until the army again moved in June. 

While Washington was thus keeping up a show of resistance, 
and using his utmost endeavours to infuse courage and hope into 
the minils of the people in the Middle States, the northern army, 
at first repulsed, overawed, and driven back before a superior foe, 
was, under the guidance and superintendence of officers appointed 
by Congress, on the recommendation of Washington, and by his 
advice and aid, gaining for the country a most important triumph, 
and one which had no little influence on the minds of the French 
and English governments, and contributed greatly to the success 
of the campaign of 1778. 

On the 30th of June, 1777, the British General Burgoyne issued 
the following order : 

" The army embarks to-morrow to approach the enemy. The 
services required on this expedition are actual and conspicuous. 
During our progress occasions may occur in which nor difficulty, 
nor labour, nor life are to be regarded. This army must not re- 
treat." 

Such was the lariguage of the ominous proclamation which 
heralded the operations of the British northern army. And that 



BURGOYNE'S CAMPAIGN. 307 

army had dread auxiliaries, to whose native passions might well be 
committed the execution of these sanguinary orders. It would be 
impossible to say whether Burgoyne, who led on this devastating 
force, addressed them, for the purpose of awakening the instincts 
of the savages, or by way of anticipating the acts of barbarity, 
which he knew it would be impossible to prevent them from per- 
petrating. 

In the summer of 1776, the American army evacuated the pro- 
vince of Canada. From that time until the arrival of Burgoyne, 
the operations of Sir Guy Carleton were merely defensive ; and 
the Americans did not venture to disturb his repose. When 
Burgoyne, at the head of a large force destined to invade the 
northern states, began his march, the Americans had possession 
only of Ticonderoga and the several forts about it. He invested 
them on all sides ; and General St. Clair, first in command, find- 
ing his little force utterly inadequate to defend the extensive line 
of forts, the safety of which was essential to the fort of Ticonde- 
roga itself, called a council of war, and submitted the humiliating 
proposal of evacuating the place, although the evacuation in- 
volved the loss of all the stores and baggage. The proposal re- 
ceived unanimous sanction, notwithstanding that step was one of 
great risk, and greater delicacy. The strength of Ticonderoga 
was a familiar boast with all America, and the general who aban- 
doned it without an effort, was sure to be assailed with all the 
bitterness of popular odium. Time, however, and the verdict of 
a court-martial, bore testimony to the wisdom of St. Clair's reso- 
lution. An attempt was made to save some of the stores, which 
were shipped on board a few batteaux, which left the fort as the 
army commenced its retreat. Burgoyne's disposition to pursue 
them, both by land and water, was prompt and determined. The 
batteaux were overtaken, and, after a brief and bootless resistance, 
all the American vessels were sunk or fired. On the track of the 
army hung the avenging savages, who formed the van of Bur- 
goyne's force. 

The destruction of the little fleet, and the defeat of some regi- 
ments in St. Clair's rear, gave a new direction to his march ; his 
enfeebled resources suggesting the immediate necessity of forming 
a junction with Schuyler, at Fort Edward, on the Hudson. 
Marching south-west, he succeeded in reaching this point, when 
the joint forces of both generals were found to amount to only 
four thousand four hundred. On the approach of Burgoyne's vic- 
torious troops, this fort was abandoned, and the army fell back 



308 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

upon Albany. But in that quarter, too, a dangerous foe was in 
rapid march to intercept their retreat. St. Leger, with whom were 
the chief Indian auxiliaries, had made a circuit to the right, 
and was approaching Albany by Lake Ontario and the Mohawk 
River. 

While Burgoyne was meditating on the surest means of captur- 
ing, or cutting off in the speediest way the American army, and 
his troops, in this hope, were surmounting all the difficulties of a 
march through the wilderness, St. Leger received an unexpected 
check on the banks of the Mohawk. While on rapid march with 
the Indians, athirst for blood and plunder, he laid siege to Fort 
Schuyler, on the Mohawk, the first place that presented any op- 
position. Colonel Herkimer, with a regiment of volunteers, has- 
tily collected, determined to attack him in his intrenchments ; 
but while on his route he was surprised by the Indians, and a 
detachment from St. Leger's camp. Herkimer was killed, and 
his army, after a desperate struggle, completely routed, leaving 
about one hundred and sixty of their comrades on the field, to 
glut the barbarity of the Indians. But in that unequal conflict, 
they made an impression on the red warriors which they never 
afterwards forgot. This short battle sorely thinned them, and its 
consequences w^ere any thing but satisfactory to their cupidity. 
St. Leger, in his correspondence with the garrison, held out as a 
threat their uncontrollable ferocity, which, if the fort did not at 
once submit, would commit indiscriminate murder, '<■ not alone 
on the garrison, but on every man, woman, and child in the 
Mohawk country." 

The answer of Colonel Gavensfort to this inhuman menace, 
which it would be impossible to credit, did but one man then 
or since contradict it, is one of the noblest in any annals : — " I 
am determined," said he, "to defend the fort to the last extre- 
mity, against all enemies whatever, without any concern for the 
consequence of doing my duty." 

Besieged and besiegers redoubled their eflforts, and the extremity 
which the garrison had dared was quickly approaching, when a 
strange revolution in the British camp gave affairs a different turn. 
Two officers, Willet and Stockwell, undertook the desperate at- 
tempt of stealing through savages and soldiers to convey to Schuyler 
intelligence of the garrison's distress. They succeeded, and at 
the same time, a prisoner, acquainted with the language of the 
Indians, was prevailed on to enter their bivouacks, and dissuade 
them from the enterprise. They listened, and were convinced. 



DEFENCE OF FORT SCHUYLER. 



309 




'^^Vi^txQ 



X 



St. Leger employed all his 
address to change their re- 
solutions, but in vain. At 
the same time other intelli- 
gence, still more gratifying, 
apprized them that Arnold 
was hurrying to their relief, 
with a speed such as but 
few besides him could em- 
ploy when on errands of 
battle. 

The siege was raised on 
the 22d of August, in the 
midst of the confusion 
caused by the departure of 
the Indians, the main body 
of whom only remained on 
condition of an instant aban- 
donment of this tedious warfare. Ere yet Burgoyne was aware of 
this, he revolved in his mind, with deep anxiety, the prudence and 
glory of a rapid movement into the country, which, while it opened 
to him a dazzling prospect of triumph, involved the danger of remov- 
ing a large army out of the reach of those shores whence he re- 
ceived his chief supply. Ambition prevailed. But he determined 
to try if he might not rely on the rich produce of Vermont, which 
he calculated that the panic of the inhabitants and their supposed 
disaffection to the American cause would place at his disposal. A 
detachment of five hundred men, with six hundred Indians, was 
directed to explore Vermont, disperse any scattered militia that 
might guard it, and enter into terms with the loyalists. They were 
rescued at the sword's point. Colonel Baum, their commander, 
found himself surrounded by forces vastly superior. He paused 
when too late, and despatched a messenger, demanding instant 
reinforcement. But before aid arrived, the militia fell upon him, 
at Bennington, and totally routed him. This was a signal and most 
timely advantage, and it was obtained by about eight hundred men 
without a single piece of artillery, — scarcely one man escaping. 
Colonel Brehman, despatched with a reinforcement by Burgoyne, 
arrived on the field too late to take part in the action, but not too 
late to engage in a fresh conflict with the elated Americans, now 
reinforced on their part by Colonel Warner's regiment. Brehman's 
force fought with obstinate bravery for a long time, though wearied 



310 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

with a forced march. At length they broke and fled, abandoning 
their artillery to the Americans, whose commanding officers re- 
ceived the just thanks of Congress for the important and gallant 
service they had rendered to their country. The British lost four 
brass field-pieces, two hundred and fifty dragoons' swords, and 
seven hundred prisoners. 

This defeat checked the tide of British victory. Hitherto it had 
swept with wasting fury over lake, forest, and plain. Burgoyne 
reined in his impetuosity in deep chagrin. He reluctantly admitted 
that any further advance would expose his army to starvation. 
And, as perplexities thickened around him, while he delayed for a 
fresh supply, the courage and resolution of the American army 
were restored. General Gates arrived to assume its command. 
His abilities and daring supplied fresh impulses of enthusiasm in 
the American camp. The word went forth that Burgoyne was in 
their power, and the army was swelled by militia and volunteers 
until it far exceeded that of the royalists. 

Meantime American enterprise did not sleep. The plan of re- 
taking Ticonderoga was suggested and adopted. General Lincoln 
accepted the task. Dividing his squadrons into two divisions of 
five hundred men, under Colonels Brown and Johnson, he marched 
on Ticonderoga. Brown, arriving by the landing at Lake George, 
surprised all the outposts from that point to (he fort. On the 13th 
of September, he stormed Mount Defiance and Mount Hope, took 
two hundred batteaux, an armed sloop, and two hundred and ninety 
prisoners, releasing, at the same time, one hundred Americans, 
detained in those forts. The two colonels met before Mount Inde- 
pendence ; but finding an assault on the fort impracticable, did not 
attempt it. 

On the same day that these proceedings were changing the pos- 
ture of affairs far in his rear, Burgoyne, giving up all communica- 
tions with his magazines, crossed the Hudson, and was in rapid 
march upon the American position, near Stillwater. Within two 
miles of Gates's intrenchments, on the 19th of September, he took 
possession of the heights which commanded the camp of the latter. 
The Americans, buoyant with recent victory, and reliance on their 
general, received him with alacrity. Scarcely were Burgoyne's 
positions formed, when the din of battle raged on the intervening 
plain. Detachment after detachment hurried from both camps to 
the scene of action. The outer posts at each side were repeatedly 
won and lost, and victory hovered over the field of battle for several 
hours, as if undecided which army to descend upon. Many a 



BATTLE OF STILLWATER. 311 

bloody corpse covered the plain ; and among them were more than 
a proportion of the bravest officers. In the midst of the terrible din 
and carnage, the American riflemen took post in lofty trees, from 
which they poured a destructive fire on the enemy. Night fell 
upon the scene to close the work of havoc. There was no victory, 
and no defeat. The British lost five hundred men, and the Ame- 
ricans little less than four hundred. But that was not the only 
result. The Indians in Burgoyne's camp, naturally disrelishing 
the service in which hunger and hard fighting were substituted for 
the plunder and vengeance, and revel they were promised, fled in 
numbers from the camp. His situation became most precarious. 
Every day dimmed his hopes, and accumulated his difficulties. 
From his anxious calculations, however, the idea of retreat was 
excluded. While in these difficulties, intelligence was brought 
him that General Clinton was advancing from New York to his 
rehef. This was cheering. His answer was, that he could main- 
tain himself till the 12th of October, and no longer. Whether this 
message reached Clinton we know not ; but that general, having 
reduced Fort Montgomery, after a brave resistance, and thus opened 
an undisturbed passage to Albany, indulged his army of three 
thousand men in unrestrained rapine and devastation. Gates heard 
with pain, that the king's generals sank their profession in rapine 
and unlicensed libertinism. He remonstrated by letter, but in 
vain. The 12th of October, the day which was to close the fatal 
term beyond which there was no means of safety, was fast approach- 
ing. The rations of the men were stinted ; the savage allies fled to 
the forests ; there was no ray of hope from Clinton's army. Gates 
was sedulously occupying every favourable position for preventing 
his enemy's escape. But Burgoyne, brave in every extremity, 
determined to foil him. With this view, on the 7lh of October, a 
movement was made towards the American left, so as to keep an 
open space at least at one side. One thousand chosen men at- 
tempted this movement. A sudden shock answered their first 
evolution. But it was met by equal bravery. The attack became 
general along the entire line of this division. 

Fierce, and hot, and stubborn was that encounter, and meantime 
another division of the American army was forcing its way to the 
right of the British thus engaged, so as to intercept their retreat to 
the camp. Two more regiments ordered from the British camp, 
disputed this passage. Another charge on Burgoyne's left, under 
whose well-directed strength it reeled backward, threw the whole 
division into confusion, and its total ruin was only prevented by the 



312 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

bravery of the two regiments ordered out to secure its retreat. The 
entire British forces quickly formed behind the front lines of their 
entrenchments, upon which the impetuosity of Arnold was urging 
the concentrated strength of his brigade. The obstacles were too 
great even for him ; but, baulked in his first attempt, he flew to a 
fresh regiment, which he led on to the redoubt defended by Breck- 
man. Breckman fell at his post ; and Arnold, now within the 
lines, was hotly pursuing their defenders as they retired still firing. 
Before they took shelter w'ithin the inner intrenchments, they 
wheeled round and discharged a joint volley. Arnold fell, wounded ; 
but the battle, then becoming general, was interrupted by the dark- 
ness of night. 

The Americans took two hundred prisoners, nine pieces of artil- 
lery, and the entire tents and stores of a German brigade. Among 
the British slain were Generals Frazer and Clarke ; Burgoyne 
narrowly escaped, more than one ball having passed through his 
hat and clothes. The next day was one of deep anxiety to Bur- 
goyne. His forces remained in order of battle and under arms, 
but no attack was made on them. He clearly saw his position was 
no longer tenable, and next morning the Americans discovered his 
camp completely abandoned. Instant precautions were taken, and 
his new position was soon more dangerous than the former. 

The 12th of October came and went. Burgoyne, finding his 
hope of succour blasted, stood boldly at bay with his fate. Deter- 
mined to break the armed circle that was closing around him, he 
retreated on Saratoga. Fatal field for that army that was "not to 
retreat." Here his first attempt was to clear a way for a further 
retreat on Lake George, Artificers and workmen were despatched 
to execute this task, but being abandoned by the regiments that 
protected them, they retired in confusion and gave up the works. 
Nothing remained but to escape by night to Fort Edward. This 
attempt was in preparation, when scouts brought intelligence that 
the Americans were posted in great force at the only ford on the 
river by which that retreat could be effected. Thus hemmed in, 
baffled, wasted, and defeated, Burgoyne sent a message to Gates, 
requesting to know on what honourable terms he would receive his 
capitulation. "On the terms," said that general, "of surrendering 
prisoners of war, grounding your arms." "Sooner," replied Bur- 
goyne, " than ground our arms in our own encampment, we will 
rush on our enemy, determined to take no quarter." A more ac- 
commodating disposition, and a humane desire to avoid the efflision 



SURRENDER OF BURGOYNE. 315 

of blood, induced him, on the 16th of October, to agree to terms 
of capitulation as follows : 

"The troops under General Burgoyne to march out of their camp 
with the honours of war, and the artillery of the intrenchments to 
the verge of the river, where the arms and artillery are to be left. 
The arms to be piled by word of command from their own offi- 
cers. A free passage to be granted to the army under Lieutenant- 
general Burgoyne to Great Britain, upon condition of not serving 
again in North America during the present contest ; and the port 
of Boston to be assigned for the entry of the transports to receive 
the troops whenever General Howe shall so order. The army under 
Lieutenant-general Burgoyne to march to Massachusetts bay, by 
the easiest route, and to be quartered in, near, or as convenient 
as possible to Boston. The troops to be provided with provisions 
by General Gates's orders, at the same rate of rations as his own 
army. All officers to retain their carriages, bat-horses, and no 
baggages to be molested or searched. The officers to be permitted 
on their parol, and to be permitted to wear their side-arms." 

On the night of the day that the British army paid this homage 
to American valour on the banks of the Hudson, thus redeeming 
the boast that retreat was not for them, Gates received at his table 
Burgoyne and his staff, and the officers who so often panted to 
cross each other on the field of death, exchanged the most cordial 
civilities, and paid each other that mutual honour and respect, in 
discharge of which there is, under every circumstance, a generous 
emulation between the brave. 

The number of men contributing to that pile of arms w^as five 
thousand seven hundred and ninety, the remnant of the noble 
army, at least ten thousand strong, independent of the Indian aux- 
iliaries, that crossed the States' boundary in search of sure conquest 
and glory. The northern American army now amounted to nearly 
fourteen thousand men. 

This achievement led a few unthinking men to suppose that the 
arms of America might be more fortunate if General Gates was 
elevated to the supreme command. He himself seems not to have 
been hostile to the prevalence of such an opinion, and some parts 
of his conduct are sufficient to show that if it did not originate with 
him, he w^as not the last to adopt it. Not only did he neglect to 
communicate to General Washington the success of his army, after 
the victory of the 7th of October had opened to him the prospect 
of finally destroying the enemy opposed to him ; but he carried on 
a correspondence with General Conway, in which that officer ex- 



316 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

pressed himself with great contempt of the commander-in-chief; 
and on the disclosure of this circumstance, General Gates had 
demanded the name of the informer in a letter expressed in terms 
by no means conciliatory, and which was passed through the hands 
of Congress — a very extraordinary circumstance in the case of a 
general communicating with his commander. This letter, dated 
Albany, December 8th, 1777, was in the following words : 

"I shall not attempt to describe what, as a private gentleman, I 
cannot help feeling, on representing to my mind the disagreeable 
situation in which confidential letters when exposed to public inspec- 
tion may place an unsuspecting correspondent ; but, as a public 
officer, I conjure your excellency to give me all the assistance you 
can, in tracing out the author of the infidelity, which puts extracts 
from General Conway's letters to me into your hands. Those let- 
ters have been stealingly copied ; but which of them, when, and 
by whom, is to me, as yet, an unfathomable secret. There is not 
one officer in my suite, nor amongst those who have free access to 
me, upon whom I could, with the least justification to myself, fix 
the suspicion ; and yet my uneasiness may deprive me of the use- 
fulness of the worthiest men. It is, I believe, in your excellency's 
power to do me and the United States a very important service, by 
detecting a wretch who may betray me, and capitally injure the 
very operations under your immediate directions. For this reason, 
sir, I beg your excellency will favour me with the proof you can 
procure to that effect. But the crime being eventually so important, 
that the least loss of time may be attended with the worst conse- 
quences, and it being unknown to me, whether the letter came to 
you from a member of Congress or from an officer, I shall have the 
honour of transmitting a copy of this to the president, that the Con- 
gress may, in concert with your excellency, obtain as soon as pos- 
sible a discovery which so deeply affects the safety of the states. 
Crimes of that magnitude ought not to remain unpunished. I have 
the honour to be, &c. "Horatio Gates." 

General Washington sent the following answer to this letter to 
General Gates, through the hands of the President of Congress, 
saying that the unaccountable course of General Gates compelled 
him so to transmit it. It is dated Valley Forge, 4th January, 
1778, and is as follows : — 

"Sir, your letter of the 8th ultimo came to my hands a few days 
ago, and, to my great surprise, informed me that a copy of it had 
been sent to Congress, for what reason I find myself unable to 



CORRESPONDENCE OF GATES AND CONWAY. 317 

account ; but as some end doubtless was intended to be answered 
by it, I am laid under the disagreeable necessity of returning my 
answer through the same channel, lest any member of that honour- 
able body should harbour an unfavourable suspicion of my having 
practised some indirect means to come at the contents of the con- 
fidential letters between you and General Conway. 

"I am to inform you, then, that Colonel Wilkinson, on his way 
to Congress, in the month of October last, fell in with Lord Stirling 
at Reading, and, not in confidence that I ever understood, informed 
his aide-de-camp. Major Mc Williams, that General Conway had 
written this to you : < Heaven has been determined to save your 
country, or a weak general and bad counsellors would have ruined 
it.' Lord StirUng, from motives of friendship, transmitted the ac- 
count with this remark : ' The enclosed was communicated by 
Colonel Wilkinson to Major McWilliams. Such wicked duplicity 
of conduct, I shall always think it my duty to detect. In conse- 
quence of this information, and without having any thing more in 
view than merely to show that gentleman that I was not unapprized 
of his intriguing disposition, I wrote to him a letter in these 
words : — 

" ' Sir, a letter which I received last night, contained the follow- 
ing paragraph : — " In a letter from General Conway to General 
Gates, he says, Heaven has been determined to save your country, or 
a weak general and bad counsellors would have ruined it^ I am 
sir, &c.' 

"Neither the letter, nor the information which occasioned it, 
was ever, directly or indirectly, communicated to me by a single 
officer in this army, out of my own family, excepting the Marquis 
de Lafayette, who, having been spoken to on this subject by 
General Conway, applied for, and saw, under injunctions of 
secrecy, the letter which contained Wilkinson's information ; so 
desirous was I of concealing every matter that could, in its conse- 
quences, give the smallest interruption to the tranquillity of this 
army, or afford a gleam of hope to the enemy by dissensions 
therein. 

" Thus, sir, with an openness and candour which I hope will 
ever characterize and mark my conduct, have I complied with your 
request. The only concern I feel upon the occasion, finding how 
matters stand, is, that in doing this. I have necessarily been obliged 
to name a gentleman, who, I am persuaded, although I never ex- 
changed a word with him upon the subject, thought he was rather 
doing an act of justice, than committing an act of infidelity ; and 

2d 2 



318 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

sure I am, that till Lord Stirling's letter came to my hands, I never 
knew that General Conway, whom I viewed in the light of a 
stranger to you, was a correspondent of yours ; much less did I 
suspect that I was the subject of your confidential letters. Pardon 
me then for adding, that so far from conceiving that the safety of 
the States can be effected, or in the smallest degree injured, by a 
discovery of this kind, or that I should be called upon in such 
solemn terms to point out the author, I considered the information 
as coming from yourself, and given with a friendly view to fore- 
warn, and consequently to forearm me, against a secret enemy, or, 
in other words, a dangerous incendiary ; in which character, sooner 
or later, this country will know General Conway. But in this, as 
in other matters of late, I have found myself mistaken." 

Other letters passed between Washington, Gates, and Conway ; 
but each succeeding one only the more clearly set forth the wicked- 
ness and ambition of those who, for their own aggrandizement, 
would not scruple to sacrifice the welfare or even the existence of 
their infant country. Lafayette, who was early made acquainted 
with the facts, warmly sympathized with Washington, and took 
every opportunity of expressing his undiminished confidence in 
him, though in the presence only of his opponents. 

Anonymous papers, containing high charges against him, and 
urging the necessity of placing some more active and efficient per- 
son at the head of the army, were sent to Henry Laurens, the Pre- 
sident of Congress, Patrick Henry, the Governor of Virginia, and 
others. These gentlemen forwarded the papers to the commander- 
in-chief, warning him to be on his guard against a dangerous plot, 
which, from their tenor, they conceived to be forming; expressing, 
at the same time, their high regard for him, and their sense of the 
injustice of the groundless censures contained in them. To Mr. 
Laurens, he replied: — "I cannot sufficiently express the obligation 
I feel to you, for your friendship and politeness upon an occasion 
in which I am so deeply interested. I was not unapprized, that a 
malignant faction had been for some time forming to my prejudice ; 
which, conscious as I am of having ever done all in my power to 
answer the important purposes of the trust reposed in me, could 
not but give me some pain on a personal account. But my chief 
concern arises from an apprehension of the dangerous consequences 
which intestine dissensions may produce to the common cause. 

<< As I have no other view than to promote the public good, and 
am unambitious of honours not founded in the approbation of ray 
country, I would not desire in the least degree to suppress a free 



CHARGES AGAINST WASHINGTON. 319 

spirit of inquiiy into any part of my conduct, that even faction it- 
self may deem reprehensible. The anonymous paper handed to 
you exhibits many serious charges, and it is my wish that it should 
be submitted to Congress. This I am the more inclined to, as the 
suppression or concealment may possibly involve you in embarrass- 
ments hereafter, since it is uncertain how many or who may be 
pri\-y to the contents. 

" My enemies take an ungenerous advantage of me. They know 
the delicacy of my situation, and that motives of policy deprive me 
of the defence I might otherwise make against their insidious 
attacks. They know I cannot combat their insinuations, however 
injurious, without disclosing secrets which it is of the utmost mo- 
ment to conceal. But why should I expect to be exempt from 
censure — the unfailing lot of an elevated station .-* Merit and ta- 
lents, with which I can have no pretensions of rivalship, have ever 
been subject to it. My heart tells me, that it ha^ been my unre- 
mitted aim to do the best that circumstances would permit ; yet I 
may have been very often mistaken in my judgment of the means, 
and may in many instances deserve the imputation of error. I can- 
not forbear repeating, that I have a grateful sense of the favourable 
disposition you have manifested to me in this affair, and beg you 
will believe me to be, with sentiments of real esteem and regard, 
sir, &c." 

His answer to Mr. Henry was of the same nature. 

Not content with thus attempting to poison the minds of Wash- 
ington's firmest friends, by spreading malignant insinuations against 
his character as a general, his enemies industriously circulated a 
report that it was his intention to resign his commission of com- 
mander-in-chief of the American army, and retiring, to leave the 
people to fight their own battles. On this subject he wrote to 
Doctor Gordon, a gentleman of New England, as follows : 

" I can assure you, that no person ever heard me drop an expres- 
sion that had a tendency to resignation. The same principles that 
led me to embark in the opposition to the arbitrary claims of Great 
Britain, operate with additional force at this day ; nor is it my de- 
sire to withdraw my services while they are considered of import- 
ance in the present contest ; but to report a design of this kind 
is among the arts which those who are endeavouring to effect a 
change are practising, to bring it to pass. I have said, and I still do 
say, that there is not an officer in the service of the United States, 
that would return to the sweets of domestic life with more heartfelt 
joy than I should. But I would have this declaration accompanied 



320 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

by these sentiments, that, while the public are satisfied with ray 
endeavours, I mean not to shrink from the cause. But the moment 
her voice, not that of faction, calls upon me to resign, I shall do it 
with as much pleasure as ever the weary traveller retired to rest. 
This, my dear doctor, you are at liberty to assert ; but, in doing 
it, I would have nothing formal. All things will come right again, 
and soon recover their proper tone, as the design is not only seen 
through, but reprobated." 

These machinations finally resulted in the shame and destruction 
of all concerned in them, and redounded to the, honour of Wash- 
ington. Even the troops who fought under General Gates indig- 
nantly resisted this attempt to raise him to the place of their be- 
loved commander-in-chief. The resentment of the main army 
was such, that none of the known enemies of the general dared to 
show themselves in the camp. General Conway, in the spring of 
1778, wrote an impertinent letter to Congress, in which he inti- 
mated a wish to resign his commission, unless they should give 
hira a separate command, instead of serving under General Mc- 
Dougall. A motion to accept his resignation was carried, without 
a dissenting voice. The intelligence of this created such astonish- 
ment, that, after writing a letter, saying that he had been misun- 
derstood, in supposing that he intended to resign, he himself pro- 
ceeded to York, appeared before Congress, and claimed to be 
restored. It was in vain. His freedom of speech soon after in- 
volved him in difficulties with General Cadwallader of Philadel- 
phia, with whom he fought a duel, and thinking himself mortally 
wounded, addressed the following confession to General Wash- 
ington : 

" I find myself just able to hold the pen during a few minutes, 
and take this opportunity to express my sincere grief for having 
done, written, or said any thing disagreeable to your excellency. 
My career will soon be over ; therefore, justice and truth prompt 
me to declare my last sentiments. You are, in my eyes, the great 
and good man. May you long enjoy the love, veneration and 
esteem of these states, whose liberties you have asserted by your 
virtues." 

The end of Conway was not as near as he supposed. He 
recovered rapidly, and before the end of the year returned to 
France. 

To add still more to the distresses of Washington, a pamphlet, 
lately published in England, was, during the encampment of the 
army at Valley Forge, republished in the papers of New York and 



SPURIOUS LETTERS. 321 

Philadelphia. The title of this pamphlet was, " Letters from 
General Washington to several of his friends, in the year 1776 ; 
in which are set forth a fairer and fuller view of American politics 
than ever yet transpired, or the public could be made acquainted 
with through any other channel." They purport to have been 
written in New York, in June and July, 1776, to Mr. Lund Wash- 
ington, Mrs. Washington, and Mr. Custis, and to have been found 
in the possession of General Washington's servant, who had been 
left behind, sick, when Fort Lee was evacuated. The design of 
the fabrication of these letters seems to have been to disparage 
General Washington in the minds of his countrymen, by repre- 
senting him as opposed to the war with Great Britain. One of 
these pamphlets was sent to General Washington by General 
Henry Lee, of Virginia, in the beginning of May, 1778. He had 
before heard of its existence, and had seen one or two of them 
which were published in New York. He acknowledged the re- 
ceipt of the pamphlet, on the 25th of May, and wrote to General 
Lee : 

« If any thing of greater moment had occurred, than declaring 
that every word contained in the pamphlet, which you were oblig- 
ing enough to send me, was spurious, I should not have suffered 
your favour of the 6th instant to remain so long unacknowledged. 
These letters are written with a great deal of art. The intermix- 
ture of so many family circumstances (which, by the by, want 
foundation in truth) gives an air of plausibility which renders the 
villany greater ; as the whole is a contrivance to answer the most 
diabolical purposes. Who the author of them is, I know not. 
From information, or acquaintance, he must have had some 
knowledge of the component parts of my family ; but he has 
most egregiously mistaken facts, in several instances. The 
design of his labours is as clear as the sun in its meridian bright- 
ness." 

The author of these letters was never discovered ; and they 
would not have been noticed in this place, had they not been re- 
published towards the close of his presidency, for party purposes, 
when he contented himself with denying their authenticity in a 
letter to the secretary of state. 

During this year the Congress adopted articles of confederation 
for the government of the United States. After much discussion, 
at thirty-nine sittings, the articles were approved by Congress, 
transmitted to the several state legislatures, and, meeting with their 
approbation, were ratified by all the delegates on the 15th of No- 
41 



322 



LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 



vember, 1777. Though the affairs of the new government, 
during the greater part of the year, wore the most gloomy as- 
pect, Congress maintained an erect posture, and after having 
thus united their several states into one confederacy, carried on 
the subsequent military operations under its provisions and au- 
thority. 

The great powers of the continent of Europe had been attentive 
observers of the straggle between Great Britain and her American 
colonies, and to those powers the Americans made an early appli- 
cation for assistance. But the strength and vengeance of Britain 
were not to be invoked on slight grounds. The first power cou- 
rageous enough to declare herself the friend and ally of the United 
States was France. The battles of the Brandywine, Germantown, 
and the Convention of Saratoga, were already preparing the way 
for a treaty between France and the United States. 




HEAD- QUARTERS AT VALLl-Y TORO: 



TREATY WITH FRANCE. 



323 




MONMOUTH B ATTLS-0 RO UN O. 



CHAPTER XVI. 



^amjpaigm of ILS'3'§, 

OON after the intelligence of the 
capture of Bur goyne's army reach- 
ed Europe, the court of France 
concluded, at Paris, treaties of 
alliance and commerce with the 
the United States. Dr. Franklin, 
Mr. Deane, and Mr. Lee had been 
appointed commissioners to pro- 
ceed to France for the purpose of 
concluding this treaty as early as 
September, 1776. Their efforts 
had hitherto been baffled by the 
vacillating counsels of the French court, which were affected by 
every intelligence and even report which arrived from America. 
Nothing could be effected towards the conclusion of an open and 
public treaty until December, 1777, when the momentous tidings 
of Burgoyne's surrender gave a decisive turn to the French 
cabinet. 

On the 16th of December, M. Gerard intimated to the commis- 




324 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

• 
sioners, that, after long deliberation, the king had determined to 
acknowledge the independence of the United States, and also to 
afford them support, though thereby involving himself in an ex- 
pensive war. It was frankly admitted that he thus acted, not 
merely from a friendly disposition towards them, but for the promo- 
tion of his own political interests. 

On the 8th of January, 1778, Louis XVI. WTote a letter to his 
uncle, the King of Spain, referring to Britain as their common and 
inveterate enemy. During the pending contest, he had afforded to 
the colonies supplies of money and stores, at which England had 
taken deep umbrage, and would no doubt seize the first opportunity 
of avenging herself 

The Americans had indeed shown that they were not to be sub- 
dued, but Britain might succeed in her present attempt to form a 
close and friendly alliance with them, and thus turn her arms un- 
divided against her continental enemies : now, therefore, was the 
time to form such a connection as might prevent any re-union be- 
tween them and the mother-country. 

In pursuance of these views, there was concluded on the 6th of 
February, a treaty of commerce, accompanied by one of defensive 
alliance, in the well-foreseen case of war being the result. The 
allies were to make common cause Mith the States, and to maintain 
their absolute independence. Whatever conquests should be made 
on- the continent, were to be secured to them ; but those in the 
West Indies to the crown of France. The treaty between France 
and America, though soon generally known, was for some time 
studiously concealed from the British minister. On the 13th of 
March, however, the French ambassador at London delivered a 
note referring to the United States as already in full possession of 
independence, w^hence his majesty had concluded with them a 
treaty of friendship and commerce, and would take effectual mea- 
sures to prevent its interruption. Professions were made of the 
king's anxiety to cultivate a good understanding with Britain and 
his sincere disposition for peace, of which it was ironically said 
that new proofs would be found in this communication. On the 
17th, this document was laid before Parliament, with a message 
from the crown, stating that the British ambassadors had in con- 
sequence been ordered to withdraw from Paris, and expressing 
trust in the zealous and affectionate support of the people for re- 
pelling this unprovoked aggression, combined with insult. An 
address, echoing the message, was moved in both Houses ; but the 
opposition reproached ministers with not having duly foreseen or 



PROJECT FOR CONCILIATION. 325 

prepared for this emergency ; while a few repelled as now hopeless 
the idea of holding America under any kind of dependence. It 
was carried, however, by majorities, in the Commons, of two hun- 
dred and sixty-three to one hundred and thirteen ; in the Lords, of 
sixty-eight to twenty-five. The message for calling out the militia 
was sanctioned without a division.* 

Eleven days after the treaty between France and America had 
been concluded, 17th February, the British minister introduced 
into the house a project for conciliation, founded on the idea of 
obtaining a re-union of the new States with Great Britain, This 
consisted of two bills with the following titles: "A bill for declar- 
ing the intention of Great Britain, concerning the exercise of the 
right of imposing taxes within his majesty's colonies, provinces, 
and plantations in North America :" and a bill "to enable his ma- 
jesty to appoint commissioners with sufficient power, to treat, con- 
sult, and agree upon the means of quelling the disorders now sub- 
sisting in certain of the colonies, plantations, and provinces of 
North America." These bills were hurried through both houses 
of Parliament, and before they passed into acts, were copied and 
sent across the Atlantic, to Lord and General Howe. On their 
arrival in America, they were sent by a flag to Congress at York- 
town. When they were received, 21st of April, Congress was un- 
informed of the treaty w^hich their commissioners had lately con- 
cluded at Paris. For upwards of a year they had not received 
one line of information from them on any subject whatever. One 
packet had in that time been received ; but all the letters therein 
were taken out before it was put on board the vessel which brought 
it from France, and blank papers put in their stead. A committee 
of Congress was appointed to examine these bills, and report on 
them. Their report was brought in the day following, and was 
unanimously adopted. By it they rejected the proposals of Great 
Britain. 

The vigorous and firm language in which Congress expressed 
their rejection of these offers, considered in connection with the 
circumstance of their being wholly ignorant of the late treaty with 
France, exhibits the glowing serenity of fortitude. While the 
royal commissioners were industriously circulating these bills in a 
partial and secret manner, as if they suspected an intention of con- 
cealing them from the common people, Congress, trusting to the 
good sense of their constituents, ordered them to be forthwith 
printed for the public information. Having directed the affairs of 

* Murray. 

2E 



326 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

Iheir connlry with an honest reference to its welfare, they had 
nothing to fear from the people knowing and judging for themselves. 
They submitted the whole to the public. Their report, after some 
general remarks on the bill, concluded as follows : « From all which 
it appears evident to your committee, that the said bills are intended 
to operate upon the hopes and fears of the good people of these 
states, so as to create divisions among them, and a defection from 
the common cause, now, by the blessing of divine Providence, 
drawing near to a favourable issue : that they are the sequel of 
(hat insidious plan which, from the days of the stamp-act down to 
the present time, hath involved this country in contention and 
bloodshed : and that, as in other cases, so in this, although circum- 
stances, may force them at times to recede from their unjustifiable 
claims, there can be no doubt they will, as heretofore, upon the 
first favourable occasion, again display ihat lust of domination, 
which hath rent in twain the mighty empire of Britain. Upon the 
whole matter, the committee beg leave to report it as their opinion, 
Ihat as the Americans united in this arduous contest upon principles 
of common interest, for the defence of common rights and privileges, 
which union hath been cemented by common calamities, and by 
mutual good oiricos and affection, so the great cause for which they 
contend, and in which all mankind are interested, must derive its 
success from the continuance of that union. Wherefore, any man, 
or body of men, who should presume to make any separate or partial 
convention or agreement with commissioners under the crown of 
Great Britain, or any of Ihem, ought to be considered and treated 
as avowed enemies of these United States. 

"And further, your committee beg leave to report it as their 
opinion, that these United States cannot, with propriety, hold any 
conference with any commissioners on the part of Great Britain, 
unless they shall, as a i)reliminary thereto, either withdraw their 
Heels and armies, or else, in positive and express terms, acknow- 
kidge the indepen(lenc(> of the said states. 

"And inasmuch as it appears to be the design of the enemies of 
these states to lull them into a fatal security; to the end that they 
may act with a becoming weight and importance, it is the opinion 
of your committee diat the several states be called upon to use the 
most strenuous exertions to have their respective quotas of conti- 
nental troops in the field as soon as possible, and that all the militia 
of the said states be held in readiness to act as occasion may re- 
quire." 

The conciliatory bills were s])cedily followed by royal commis- 



PROJECT FOR CONCILIATION. 327 

sioners, deputed to solicit their reception. Governor Johnstone, 
Lord Carlisle, and Mr. Eden, appointed on this business, attempted 
to open a negotiation on the subject. They requested General 
Washington, on the 9th of June, to furnish a passport for their secre- 
tary. Dr. Ferguson, with a letter from them to Congress ; but this 
was refused, and the refusal was unanimously approved by Con- 
gress. They then forwarded in the usual channel of communica- 
tion a letter addressed, " To his excellency, Henry Laurens, the 
president, and other the members of Congress," in which they 
communicated a copy of their commission, and of the acts of par- 
liament on which it was founded ; and they offered to concur in 
every satisfactory and just arrangement towards the following among 
other purposes : 

"To consent to a cessation of hostilities both by sea and land ; 

« To restore free intercourse ; to revive mutual affection ; and 
renew the common benefits of naturalization, through the several 
parts of this empire ; 

" To extend every freedom to trade that our respective interests 
can require ; 

"To agree that no military forces shall be kept up in the different 
states of North America without the consent of the general Con- 
gress, or particular assemblies ; 

"To concur in measures calculated to discharge the debts of 
America, and to raise the credit and value of the paper circulation. 

"To perpetuate our union by a reciprocal deputation of an agent 
or agents from the different states, who shall have the privilege of 
a seat and voice in the parliament of Great Britain ; or, if sent from 
Britain, in that case to have a seat and voice in the assemblies of 
the different states to which they may be ' deputed respectively, in 
order to attend the several interests of those by whom they are de- 
puted ; 

"In short, to establish the power of the respective legislatures 
in each })articular state ; to settle its revenue, its civil and military 
establishments ; and to exercise a perfect freedom of legislation 
and internal government, so that the British states throughout North 
America, acting with us in peace and war under one common sove- 
reign, may have the irrevocable enjoyment of every privilege that is 
short of a total separation of interests, or consistent with that union 
of force, on which the safety of our common religion and liberty 
depend." 

A decided negative having been already given, previous to the 
arrival of the British commissioners, to the overtures contained in 



328 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

the conciliatory bills, and the intelligence of the treaty with France 
having in the mean time arrived, there was no ground left for fur- 
ther deliberation. President Laurens, therefore, by order of Con- 
gress, on the 17th of June, returned the following answer : 

" I have received the letter from your excellencies of the 9th in- 
stant with the enclosures, and laid them before Congress. Nothing 
but an earnest desire to spare the further effusion of blood could 
have induced them to read a paper containing expressions so disre- 
spectful to his most Christian Majesty, the good and great ally of 
these states, or to consider propositions so derogatory to the honour 
of an independent nation. 

" The acts of the British parliament, the commission from your 
sovereign, and your letter, suppose the people of these states to be 
subjects of the crown of Great Britain ; and are founded on the 
idea of dependence, which is utterly inadmissible. 

<' I am further directed to inform your excellencies that Congress 
are inclined to peace, notwithstanding the unjust claims from which 
this war originated, and the savage manner in which it hath been 
conducted. They will, therefore, be ready to enter on the consi- 
deration of a treaty of peace and commerce not inconsistent with 
treaties already subsisting, when the king of Great Britain shall 
demonstrate a sincere disposition for that purpose. The only solid 
proof of this demonstration will be, an explicit acknowledgment 
of the independence of these states, or the withdrawing his fleets 
and armies." 

Though Congress could not, consistently with national honour, 
enter on a discussion of the terms proposed by the British commis- 
sioners, yet some individuals of their body ably proved the propriety 
of rejecting them. Among these, Gouverneur Morris and William 
Henry Drayton, with great force of argument and poignancy of wit, 
justified the decisive measures adopted by their countrymen. 

As the British plan for conciliation was wholly founded on the 
idea of the states returning to their allegiance, it was no sooner 
known than rejected. In addition to the sacred ties of plighted 
faith and national engagements, the leaders in Congress and the 
legislative assemblies of America had tasted the sweets of power, 
and were in full possession of its blessings, with a fair prospect of 
retaining them without any foreign control. The war having 
originated on the part of Great Britain from a lust of power, had 
in its progress compelled the Americans in self-defence to assume 
and exercise its highest prerogatives. The passion of human nature 
which induced the former to claim power, operated no less forcibly 



PROJECT FOR CONCILIATION. 329 

with the latter, against the relinquishment of it. After the colonies 
had declared themselves independent states, had repeatedly pledged 
their honour to abide by that declaration, had by the smiles of 
Heaven maintained it for three campaigns without foreign aid, after 
the greatest monarch in Europe had entered into a treaty with them 
and guarantied their independence; after all this, to expect popular 
leaders, in the enjoyment of power, voluntarily to retire from the 
helm of government, to the languid indifference of private life ; and 
while they violated national faith, at the same time to depress their 
country from the rank of sovereign states to that of dependent pro-' 
vinces, was not more repugnant to universal experience than to the 
governing principles of the human heart. 

The high-spirited ardour of citizens in the youthful vigour of 
honour and dignity, did not so much as inquire whether greater 
political happiness might be expected from closing with the pro- 
posals of Great Britain, or by adhering to their new allies. Honour 
forbade any balancing on the subject ; nor were its dictates dis- 
obeyed. Though peace was desirable, and the offers of Great 
Britain so liberal, that if proposed in due time they would have been 
acceptable ; yet for the Americans, after they had declared them- 
selves independent, and at their own solicitation obtained the aid 
of France, to desert their new allies and to leave them exposed to 
British resentment, incurred on their account, would have argued a 
total want of honour and gratitude. The folly of Great Britain in 
expecting such conduct from virtuous freemen, could only be 
exceeded by the baseness of America, had her citizens realized 
that expectation. 

These offers of conciliation in a great measure originated in an 
opinion that the Congress were supported by a faction, and that 
the great body of the people was hostile to independence, and 
well disposed to reunite with Great Britain. The latter of these 
assertions were true till a certain period of the contest ; but that 
period was elapsed. With their new situation, new opinions and 
attachments had taken place. The political revolution of the go- 
vernment was less extraordinary than that of the style and manner 
of thinking in the United States. The independent American citi- 
zens saw with other eyes and heard with other ears than when they 
were in the condition of British subjects. That narrowness of sen- 
timent which prevailed in England towards France, no longer 
existed among the Americans. The British commissioners, unap-? 
prized of this real change in the public mind, expected to keep a 
hold on the citizens of the United States, by that illiberality which 
42 2e 2 



330 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

they inherited from their forefathers. Presuming that the love of 
peace, and the ancient national antipathy to France would counter- 
balance all other ties, they flattered themselves that, by persever- 
ance, an impression favourable to Great Britain might yet be made 
on the mind of America. They therefore renewed their efforts to 
open a negotiation with Congress, in a letter of the 11th of July. 
As they had been informed, in answer to their preceding letter of 
the 10th of June, that an explicit acknowledgment of the indepen- 
dence of the United States, or a withdrawing of their fleets and 
armies, must precede an entrance on the consideration of a treaty 
of peace, and as neither branch of this alternative had been com- 
plied with, it was resolved by Congress that no answer should be 
given to their reiterated application. 

In addition to his public exertions as a commissioner, Governor 
Johnstone endeavoured to obtain the objects on which he had been 
sent, by opening a private correspondence with some of the mem- 
bers of Congress, and other Americans of influence. He in parti- 
cular addressed himself to Henry Laurens, Joseph Reed, and Ro- 
bert Morris. His letter to Henry Laurens was in these words : 

" Dear Sir, — I beg to transfer to my friend Dr. Ferguson, 
the private civilities which my friends Mr. Manning and Mr. 
Oswald request in my behalf. He is a man of the utmost probity 
and of the highest esteem in the republic of letters. 

" If you should follow the example of Britain in the hour of her 
insolence, and send us back without a hearing, 1 shall hope, from 
private friendship, that I may be permitted to see the country, and 
the worthy characters she has exhibited to the world, upon making 
the request any way you may point out." 

The following answer was immediately written. 

« Yorktown, June 14^A, 1778. 

"Dear Sir, — Yesterday, I was honoured with your favour of 
the 10th, and thank you for the transmission of those from my dear 
and worthy friends, Mr. Oswald and Mr. Manning. Had Dr. Fer- 
guson been the bearer of these papers, I should hav^e shown that 
gentleman every degree of respect and attention that times and 
circumstances admit of. 

<<It is, sir, for Great Britain to determine whether her commis- 
sioners shall return unheard by the representatives of the United 
States, or revive a friendship with the citizens at large, and remain 
among us as long as they please. 

"You are undoubtedly acquainted with the only terms upon 



PROJECT FOR CONCILIATION. 331 

which Congress can treat for accomplishing this good end ; terms 
from which, although writing in a private character, I may venture 
•to assert, with great assurance, they will never recede, even admit- 
ting the continuance of hostile attempts, and that from the rage of 
war the good people of these states shall be driven to commence a 
treaty westward of yonder mountains. And permit me to add, sir, 
as my humble opinion, the true interest of Great Britain in the 
present advance of our contest, will be found in confirming our 
independence. 

" Congress in no hour have been haughty ; but to suppose that 
their minds are less firm at present than they were when destitute 
of all foreign aid, and even without expectation of an alHance ; 
when, upon a day of general public fasting and humiliation in their 
house of worship, and in the presence of God, they resolved ' to 
hold no conference or treaty with any commissioners on the part of 
Great Britain, unless they shall, as a preliminary thereto, either 
withdraw their fleets and armies, or in positive and express terms 
acknowledge the independence of these states,' would be irra- 
tional. 

" At a proper time, sir, I shall think myself highly honoured by 
a personal attention, and by contributing to render every part of 
these states agreeable to you ; but until the basis of mutual confi- 
dence shall be established, I believe, sir, neither former private 
friendship, nor any other consideration, can influence Congress to 
consent, that even Governor Johnstone, a gentleman who has been 
so deservedly esteemed in America, shall see the country. I have 
but one voice, and that shall be against it. But let me entreat you, 
my dear sir, do not hence conclude that I am deficient in affection 
to my old friends, through whose kindness I have obtained the 
honour of the present correspondence, or that I am not with very 
great personal respect and esteem, 
" Sir, 
" Your most obedient, and most humble servant, 

'< Henry Laurens. 
« The honourable George Johnstone, Esq., Philadelphia." 

In a letter to Joseph Reed, of April 11th, Governor Johnstone 
said : 

" The man who can be instrumental in bringing us all to act 
once more in harmony, and to unite together the various powers 
which this contest has drawn forth, will deserve more from the 
king and people, from patriotism, from humanity, and all the ten- 



332 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

der ties that are affected by the quarrel and reconciliation, than 
ever was yet bestowed on human kind." 

On the 16th of June, he wrote to Robert Morris : 

" I beUeve the men who have conducted the affairs of America 
incapable of being influenced by improper motives ; but in all such 
transactions there is risk. And I think, that whoever ventures 
should be secured, at the same time, that honour and emolument 
should naturally follow the fortune of those who have steered the 
vessel in the storm, and brought her safely to port. I think Wash- 
ington and the president have a right to every favour that grateful 
nations can bestow, if they could once more unite our interests, 
and spare the miseries and devastations of war." 

To Joseph Reed, private information was communicated, on the 
21st of June, that it had been intended by Governor Johnstone, to 
offer him, that in case of his exerting his abilities to promote a re- 
union of the two countries, if consistent with his principles and 
judgment, ten thousand pounds sterling, and any office in the colo- 
nies within his majesty's gift. To which Mr. Reed replied : « I 
am not worth purchasing : but such as I am, the king of Great 
Britain is not rich enough to do it." 

Congress, on the 9th of July, ordered all letters received by 
members of Congress from any of the British commissioners, or 
their agents, or from any subject of the king of Great Britain, of a 
public nature, to be laid before them. The above letters and infor- 
mation being communicated. Congress resolved, "that the same 
cannot but be considered as direct attempts to corrupt their integ- 
rity, and that it is incompatible with the honour of Congress, to 
hold any manner of correspondence or intercourse with the said 
George Johnstone, Esquire, especially to negotiate with him upon 
affairs in which the cause of liberty is interested." 

Their determination, with the reasons thereof, was expressed in 
the form of a declaration, a copy of which was signed by the presi- 
dent, and sent by a flag to the commissioners at New York. This 
was answered by Governor Johnstone, by an angry publication, in 
which he denied, or explained away what had been alleged against 
him. Lord Carlisle, Sir Henry Clinton, and Mr. Eden denied 
having any knowledge of the matter charged on Governor John- 
stone. 

The commissioners failing in their attempts to negotiate with 
Congress, had no resource left but to persuade the inhabitants to 
adopt a line of conduct, counter to that of their representatives. 
To this purpose they published a manifesto and proclamation, ad- 



FAILURE OF THE NEGOTIATION. 333 

dressed to Congress, the assemblies, and all others, the free inha- 
bitants of the colonies, in which they observed : 

" The policy, as well as the benevolence of Great Britain, have 
so far checked the extremes of war, when they tended to distress a 
people still considered as our fellow-subjects, and to desolate a 
country shortly to become a source of mutual advantage ; but when 
that country professes the unnatural design, not only of estranging 
herself from us, but of mortgaging herself and. her resources to our 
enemies, the whole contest is changed : and the question is, how 
far Great Britain may, by every means in her power, destroy, or 
render useless a connection contrived for her ruin, and for the 
aggrandizement of France. Under such circumstances, the laws 
of self-preservation must direct the conduct of Great Britain ; and, 
if the British colonies shall become an accession to France, will 
direct her to render that accession of as little avail as possible to 
her enemy." 

Congress, upon being informed of the design of the commis- 
sioners to circulate these papers, declared that the agents employed 
to distribute the manifestoes and proclamation of the commissioners 
were not entitled to protection from a flag. They also recom- 
mended to the several states, to secure and keep them in close 
custody : but that they might not appear to hoodwink their con- 
stituents, they ordered the manifestoes and proclamation to be 
printed in the newspapers. 

The proposals of the commissioners were not more favourably 
received by the people than they had been by Congress. In some 
places the flags containing them were not received, but ordered 
instantly to depart ; in others, they were received and forwarded 
to Congress, as the only proper tribunal to take cognisance of 
them. In no one place, not immediately commanded by the Bri- 
tish army, was there any attempt to accept, or even to deliberate 
on the propriety of closing with the offers of Britain. 

To deter the British from executing their threats of laying waste 
the country. Congress, on the 30th of October, published to the 
world, a resolution and manifestoes, in which they concluded with 
these words : 

"We, therefore, the Congress of the United States of America, 
do solemnly declare and proclaim, that if our enemies presume 
to execute their threats, or persist in their present career of barba- 
rity, we will take such exemplary vengeance as shall deter others 
from a like conduct. We appeal to that God who searcheth the 
hearts of men, for the rectitude of our intentions ; and in his holy 



334 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

presence we declare, that, as we are not moved by any light 
and hasty suggestions of anger and revenge, so, through every 
possible change of fortune, we will adhere to this our determina- 
tion." 

This was the last effort of Great Britain, in the way of negotia- 
tion, to regain her colonies. It originated in folly and ignorance 
of the real state of affairs in America. She had begun with wrong 
measures, and had now got into wrong time. Her concessions, 
on this occasion, were an implied justification of the resistance of 
the colonists. By offering to concede all that they at first asked 
for, she virtually acknowledged herself to have been the aggressor 
in an unjust war. Nothing could be more favourable to the ce- 
menting of the friendship of the new allies, than this unsuccessful 
negotiation. The states had an opportunity of evincing the sin- 
cerity of their engagements, and France, abundant reason to be- 
lieve, that, by preventing their being conquered, her favourite 
scheme of lessening the power of Great Britain would be secured 
beyond the reach of accident.* 

The opening of the campaign of 1778 was marked by several 
expeditions undertaken by the British. Colonel Mawhood made 
an incursion into Jersey, at the head of twelve hundred men. 
Governor Livingston was immediately requested to call out the 
militia, in order to join Colonel Shreeve, whose regiment was de- 
tached for the protection of that state. This was found impracti- 
cable for want of funds ; and Mawhood was unchecked in his 
course of devastation. He returned to head-quarters at Philadel- 
phia, afi;er his incursion had lasted six or seven days. 

Soon after, an expedition was undertaken against General Lacy, 
who, with a small body of Pennsylvania militia, watched the roads 
on the north side of the Schuylkill. Colonel Abercrombie, who 
commanded this expedition, avoided all Lacy's posts of security, 
and threw a detachment into his rear before he discovered the 
presence of an enemy. After a short resistance. Lacy escaped with 
the loss of a few men and all his baggage. His corps was 
entirely dispersed, and he was soon after replaced by General 
Potter. 

To cover the country more effectually on the north of the 
Schuylkill, to form an advance guard for the security of the main 
army, and to be in readiness to annoy the rear of the enemy, 
should he evacuate Philadelphia, an event believed to be in con- 
templation. General Washington (May 18th) detached the Marquis 

• Ramsay. 



COMMENCEMENT OF HOSTILITIES. 335 

de Lafayette, with more than two thousand choice troops, to take 
post near the lines.* As this corps formed a very valuable part 
of the army, the commander-in-chief recommended, in his in- 
structions to General Lafayette, the utmost attention to its safety ; 
and, particularly, to avoid any permanent station, as a long con- 
tinuance in one position would facilitate the execution of measures 
which might be concerted against him. 

The marquis crossed the Schuylkill, and took post near Barren 
Hill church, eight or ten miles in front of the army. Immediate 
notice of his arrival was given to Sir William Howe, who recon- 
noitred his position, and formed a plan to surprise or cut him off. 

On the night of the 19th of May, General Grant, with five thou- 
sand select troops, took the road which leads up the Delaware, and 
consequently diverges from Barren Hill. After marching some dis- 
tance, he inclined to the left, and passing White Marsh, where 
several roads unite, took one leading to Plymouth meeting-house, 
the position he was directed to occupy, something more than a 
mile in the rear of the marquis, between him and Valley Forge. 
He reached his point of destination rather before sunrise. Here 
the roads fork ; the one leading to the camp of Lafayette, and the 
other to Matson's ford over the Schuylkill. 

In the course of the riight. General Gray, with a strong detach- 
ment, had advanced up the Schuylkill on its south side, along the 
Ridge Road, and taken a post at a ford two or three miles in front 
of the right flank of Lafayette, while the residue of the army en- 
camped on Chesnut Hill. 

Captain McClane, a vigilant partisan of great merit, was posted 
on the lines some distance in front of Barren Hill. In the course 
of the night, he fell in with two British grenadiers at Three Mile 
Run, who informed him of the movement made by Grant, and also 
that a large body of Germans was getting ready to march up the 
Schuylkill. Immediately conjecturing the object, McClane de- 
tached Captain Parr, with a company of riflemen across the country 
to Wanderer's hill, with orders to harass and retard the column 
advancing up the Schuylkill, and hastened in person to the camp 
of Lafayette. He arrived soon after daybreak, and communicated 
the intelligence he had received. It was not long afterwards con- 
firmed by the fire of Parr on the Ridge Road, and by an inhabitant 
who had escaped from White Marsh as the British column passed 
that place. 

Thus surrounded with danger, Lafayette instantly put his troops 

• Marshall. 



336 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

in motion, and passed the Schuylkill at Matson's ford, which was 
rather nearer to Grant than himself, with the loss of only nine 
men. 

General Grant followed his rear, and appeared at the ford, just 
after the Americans had crossed it. Finding them advantageously 
posted, he did not choose to attack them ; and the whole army re- 
turned to Philadelphia. 

This was the last enterprise attempted by Sir William Howe. 
He resigned the command of the army to Sir Henry Clinton, and 
embarked for Great Britain.* 

For the following graphic detail of the events which immediately 
followed, we are indebted to an able contemporary.! 

<< After the conclusion of the alliance between France and the 
United States, the vast fleet collected by the former, and the active 
part she proposed to take in the war, made it no longer safe for the 
British to remain in a port so easily blockaded as Philadelphia. 
Accordingly, orders were sent out by the ministry to evacuate the 
place. As soon as Washington learned this, and became satisfied 
that Sir Henry Clinton intended to reach New York by a march 
through the Jerseys, he consulted his general officers whether it 
would be advisable to attack the enemy during his retreat. With 
but two exceptions they opposed the measure. It was determined, 
however, to follow on the track of the foe, and seize every favour- 
able opportunity for annoying him. 

" The British general's first intention was to reach New York by 
the way of Brunswick, but after ascending the Delaware as far as 
Bordentown, he learned that Washington had already occupied the 
high grounds which commanded that route. He was accordingly 
forced to abandon his original design, and, turning off toward Cros- 
wick, he proceeded through Allentown to Monmouth court-house, 
intending to reach South Amboy in this more circuitous way. At 
Monmouth court-house he rested for several days, having chosen a 
wooded hill, surrounded by svs'amps, and almost inaccessible, for 
his encampment. 

« During this retreat Washington had moved along the more 
elevated ground to the northward, in nearly a parallel line to his 
enemy, thus retaining the power to give or withhold battle. No 
means of annoying Sir Henry, meantime, were neglected. A strong 
corps hung on his left flank, a regiment followed on his rear, and 
Colonel Morgan watched his right. Washington appears to have 
secredy wished for a battle during the whole march, and as the 
• Marshall. f C. J. Peterson, in Graham's Magazine. 



BATTLE OF MONMOUTH. 337 

British approached the end of their journey he gradually drew his 
forces around them. He now again called a council of his officers, 
and proposed that battle should be given. But the measure was 
negatived a second time. It was, however, agreed that the corps 
on the left flank of the enemy should be strengthened, and that the 
main body of the army should move in close vicinity to it, so as to 
be at hand to support it in case of an emergency. Among those 
who opposed a battle were Generals Lee and Du Portail, and the 
venerable Baron Steuben. These officers considered the discipline 
of the Americans so inferior to that of the British, as to render de- 
feat inevitable, in case the two armies should engage on equal 
terms ; and the influence of their opinions brought over most of 
the junior officers to that side. Wayne, Cadwalader, Lafayette and 
Greene appear to have been the only ones who diflfered from the 
council ; and the two first alone were openly in favour of a battle. 
When the council decided so much against his wishes, Washing- 
ton resolved to act on his own responsibility. The British were 
already approaching Monmouth ; twelve miles further on were the 
heights of Middletown ; and if the enemy reached these latter, all 
hope of bringing him to an action, unless with his own consent, 
would be gone. The blow, if struck at all, must be given at 
once. 

" To bring on a battle, Washington resolved to strengthen still 
further the force on the enemy's left flank, now the advanced corps : 
and accordingly he detached Wayne to join it with a thousand men. 
This command, about four thousand strong, was thought of suffi- 
cient importance to be intrusted to one of the major-generals ; and 
the post, of right, belonged to Lee. But having advised against 
the battle, and believing nothing serious was intended, he allowed 
Lafayette to take his place. Scarcely had he yielded, however, 
before he learned the importance of the post, and solicited Wash- 
ington to restore it to him ; < otherwise,' to use his own phrase, 
' both he and Lord Stirling (the seniors of Lafayette) would be dis- 
graced.' To spare his feelings, Washington suggested a com- 
promise. He sent Lee to join the marquis, with two additional 
brigades ; but, in order that the feelings of Lafayette might not be 
wounded, he stipulated that if any scheme of attack had been 
formed for the day, Lee should not interfere with it. The intelli- 
gence of this change, and of the stipulation he had made, Wash- 
ington communicated to Lafayette in a confidential letter, which 
shows the almost fatherly kindness the American chief entertained 
for the young marquis. No plan of attack, however, had been 
43 aF 



338 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

formed, and by the night of the 27th Lee was in full command of 
the advanced corps. 

" His army lay at Englishtown, not five miles distant from Mon- 
mouth, where the British were encamped. Washington, with the 
rear division, was but three miles behind ; and almost his last duty, 
before he retired, was to send word for Lee to attack the enemy as 
soon as he should have begun the march. This was known at the 
outer posts, and during that short summer night, the sentry, as he 
walked his round, speculated on the fortunes of the coming day. 

<' The morning had scarcely dawned before the British army 
began their march, Knyphausen, with the baggage, going first, 
while the flower of the army under Cornwallis, forming the rear 
division, followed some distance behind. On the first intelligence 
of the movement, Washington again sent orders for Lee to attack 
the enemy's rear, < unless there should be powerful reasons to the 
contrary.' He accordingly put his troops in motion, and directly 
after eight o'clock the glitter of his muskets flashed along the 
heights of Freehold, where Cornwallis, less than an hour before, 
had arrayed his men. As the Americans reached the brow of the 
hill they beheld the splendid grenadiers of the enemy moving, in 
compact masses, along the valley below ; while far in the distance, 
toiling through the sandy plain, was visible the long line of bag- 
gage-wagons. A rapid glance decided Lee what to do. Pushing 
Wayne forward, to press on the covering party of the British rear, 
and tlius engross their attention, he began a rapid march, by a 
by-road, to gain the front of this party, and so cut it off from the 
enemy. But he had advanced only a short distance when he learned 
that this detachment was in greater force than he had thought ; and 
galloping forward in person to reconnoitre, he saw the whole rear 
division of the foe coming up to oppose him, their dense and glit- 
tering columns darkening the plain. 

"As Lee's opinion had been, on the general question, against a 
battle, so now, in this peculiar position, his judgment appears to 
have been opposed to the measure. He had a morass in his rear, 
and a disciplined enemy in front, while aid was as yet distant. He 
appears to have wanted confidence in his men ; to have regarded 
victory as impossible ; yet he took his measures to prepare for 
battle. Before, however, a shot had been fired. General Scott, who 
commanded a portion of the detachment, mistook an oblique move- 
ment of one of the American columns for a retreat, and, without 
waiting for orders, recrossed the morass in his rear. Lee did not 
recall him, but giving up the contest as hopeless on his present 



BATTLE OF MONMOUTH. 339 

ground, followed Scott across the ravine, and so began that dis- 
astrous retreat which had wellnigh proved fatal to our army, and 
which led subsequently to his own disgrace. 

" On the propriety of this movement there has been some differ- 
ence of opinion. But an examination of all the authorities leaves 
the impression on our mind, that Lee, though a brave man, wanted, 
in his then circumstances, that reliance on himself without which 
success is impossible, even in the ordinary affairs of life. He at 
first resolved to stand his ground, but afterward suffered himself 
to be decided against it, by the comparatively trifling circumstance 
of Scott's retreat. This was certainly weak. Had he possessed 
the heroic determination which Washington evinced later in the 
day, he would have met the enemy with a firm front, and recalling 
Scott, endeavoured to keep his position, at every hazard, until the 
rear division, which he knew was advancing, could come up. 

" His retreat to the heights was not effected without some skir- 
mishing. Flushed with what they thought an easy victory, the 
British thundered hotly in pursuit, and Lee, still unable to find 
ground to suit him, continued retreating. Already he had left the 
heights of Freehold behind him in his flight, and, with the enemy 
close upon his rear, was approaching Englishtown, where he had 
lain the night before. 

" Meanwhile the troops of our rear division, hearing the can- 
nonade ahead, had cast aside their knapsacks and other impedi- 
ments, and were hurrying to reinforce their brave companions in 
arms. \Miat was the surprise and indignation of their leader to 
meet the retreating troops ! Washington first came up with the 
van, and to his astonished inquiry received for answer that a retreat 
had been ordered without striking a blow. Mortified and alarmed, 
he galloped forward until he met Lee, whom he addressed with a 
warmth of manner unusual to him, and in terms of strong disap- 
probation. The crisis was indeed calculated to disturb even the 
equanimity of Washington. Of Lee's intention to stand his ground 
on the first favourable opportunity, he was ignorant. That general 
had been guilty of gross neglect in not sending word to his chief 
of the retrograde movement. Washington, in consequence, saw 
only what appeared an unnecessary and disgraceful flight, hazard- 
ing the safety, probably the very existence, of his army. But in 
this emergency he retained his self-composure. Never was he 
greater than now. His fine person appeared to grow more com- 
manding ; his countenance, usually so calm, became animated with 
heroic resolution ; and forming the regiments of Stewart and Ram- 



340 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

say, he brouglit them up to check the pursuit, while, at the same 
time, he ordered Lee, with the remainder of his corps, to hold the 
ground until the rear division could be brought into action. The 
sight of their beloved general, and the confidence that fired his 
aspect, inspired the drooping spirits of the troops, and they met the 
enemy with enthusiasm. For a time the pursuit was checked. 
But Clinton's splendid legions, flushed with their success, poured 
on dauntlessly to the charge ; and the advanced corps was at length 
driven back on the reserves, though not until it had stood its ground 
the required time. The fresh troops of the rear division were now 
drawn up, under the eye of the general, on an eminence, covered 
by a morass in front. With desperate courage a division of the 
British, disregarding their strong position, pressed on to the charge ; 
but Lord Stirling galloped up with the artillery to the edge of the 
acclivity, unlimbered the guns and opened a galling fire, that soon 
drove them back. An attempt was now made to turn the left flank 
of our army ; but this failed. Almost simultaneously a movement 
was seen among the enemy's masses, and directly a strong body 
appeared as if about to be thrown against our right. General Greene 
no sooner saw the movement than he hurried forward Knox to a 
high ground in front, whose heavy guns soon began to shake the 
plain, and make dreadful havoc not only among the advancing 
columns, but in the force opposed to the left wing, which they 
enfiladed. The enemy was just beginning to waver, when Wayne 
came dashing up with his veterans, and assailed him impetuously 
in front. Even the grenadiers of Cornwallis quailed before this 
terrible slaughter ; and abandoning their ground, fell back behind 
the ravine, to the spot they had occupied when they received their 
first check, immediately after Washington met Lee. 

" When the British were thus driven back, they seized an almost 
impregnable position, their flanks being secured by thick woods 
and morasses, and their front accessible only through a narrow 
pass. The day was now declining, and the excessive heat had 
destroyed numbers of the men, yet Washington determined on 
forcing the enemy from his position. Two brigades were accord- 
ingly detached to gain the right flank of the British, and Woodford 
with his gallant brigade was ordered to turn their left. Knox, 
with his artillery, was called to the front. With the opening of his 
terrible batteries the battle once more began. The British cannon 
replied, and soon the earth shook with the repeated reverberations 
of heavy artillery. 

"No further decisive event, however, occurred. Night fell before 




BATTLE OF MONMOUTH. 



BATTLE OF MONMOUTH. 343 

the brigades on either flank could conquer the obstacles in the way 
of gaining their positions, and, completely worn out, both com- 
batants were glad of the reprieve afforded by darkness, and sank 
to rest on the ground they occupied. The troops of Washington 
slept on their arms, their leader slumbering, wrapt in his cloak, in 
the midst of his soldiers. 

'< It was the intention of the American general to renew the battle 
on the following day, but toward midnight the British secretly 
abandoned their position, and resumed their march. So fatigued 
were our men by the excessive heat, combined with the exertions 
of the day, that the flight of the enemy was not discovered until 
morning, when the ground he had occupied at nightfall was found 
deserted. Washington made no attempt at pursuit, satisfied that 
Sir Henry Clinton would reach the heights of Middletown before 
he could be overtaken. Accordingly, leaving a detachment to 
watch the British rear, the main body of the army was moved, by 
easy marches, to the Hudson. In this battle the enemy lost nearly 
three hundred men ; the Americans did not suffer a third as much. 
Never, unless at Princeton, did Washington evince such heroism. 
His presence of mind alone probably saved the day. He checked 
the retreat, drove back the enemy, and remained master of the 
field ; and this, too, with a loss very trifling when compared with 
that of the foe. 

" The battle of Monmouth, won in this manner, when all the 
senior officers had declared a victory impossible, left a profound 
impression on the public mind of America and Europe. The dis- 
ciphne of our troops was no longer despised. Soldiers who, under 
such disastrous circumstances, could be brought to face and drive 
back a successful foe, were declared to be a match for the veteran 
troops of Europe ; and their general, who had been called the 
Fabius, was now honoured with the new title of the Marcellus 
of modern history. 

'< We cannot dismiss this battle without referring to the subse- 
quent disgrace of Lee. Though Washington had addressed him 
warmly in the first surprise of their meeting, it is probable that no 
pubhc notice would have been taken of Lee's hasty retreat, but for 
the conduct of that general himself. Of a haughty, perhaps of an 
overbearing disposition, he could not brook the indignity which he 
considered had been put upon him ; and almost his first act was to 
write an improper letter to Washington, demanding reparation for 
the words used tov/ards him on the battle-field. The reply of the 
commander-in-chief was disrnified, but severe. He assured his 



344 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

subordinate he should have a speedy opportunity to justify himself, 
and on Lee's asking for a court-martial, he was arrested. The 
verdict of that body was, 

" First. That he was guilty of disobedience of orders in not at- 
tacking the enemy on the 28th of June, agreeably to repeated 
instructions. Second. That he was guilty of misbehaviour before 
the enemy on the same day, in making an unnecessary, and, in 
some few instances, a disorderly retreat. Third. That he was 
guilty of disrespect to the commander-in-chief in two letters. His 
sentence was, to be suspended from his rank for one year. 

" We shall not go into a minute examination of the question 
whether this punishment was deserved. Our own opinion is that 
it was. We do not think Lee guilty in the retreat of any thing but 
an error in judgment, arising perhaps from want of confidence in 
his men. But he should have kept the commander-in-chief advised 
of his movements. It is probable that Lee considered himself a 
superior officer to Washington, for he was overbearing, proud, 
sullen, and dogmatical throughout the whole proceedings, both 
before and after the battle. This point of his character was well 
understood by the army, with whom he was unpopular, and who 
hailed his disgrace with secret satisfaction. 

<' The sentence proved the ruin of Lee. He passed, from that 
hour, out of men's minds. From having held the second rank in 
the army he sank to comparative obscurity. He never again figured 
in the war. In 1780, Congress intimated to him that they had no 
further need of his services ; and two years later he died, in seclu- 
sion, at Philadelphia. 

« The killed and wounded in the battle were not the only loss 
the British sustained. During their march through the Jerseys, 
about one thousand of their soldiers deserted them." 

In the mean time, France had been preparing to assist the Ame- 
ricans. On the 14th of April, Count d'Estaing had sailed from 
Toulon with a strong squadron, and arrived on the coast of Vir- 
ginia in the beginning of July, while the British fleet was em- 
ployed in conveying the forces from Sandy Hook to New York. 
It consisted of twelve ships of the hne, and four frigates, and 
brought M. Gerard, the first minister from France to the United 
States. 

On being apprised of Count d'Estaing's arrival, General Wash- 
ington sent him, by Colonel Laurens, a letter of congratulation, 
md proposals for co-operating in their attempts upon the common 
enemy. Their design of attacking the British in New York simul- 



ATTEMPT ON RHODE ISLAND. 345 

taneously, by land and water, was rendered abordve, by the pilots 
refusing to take the responsibility of conducting the heavy ships 
of the French fleet over the bar. D'Estaing, therefore, remained 
at anchor, four miles off Sandy Hook, till the 22d of July, without 
effecting any thing more than the capture of some vessels, which, 
through ignorance of his arrival, fell into his hands. The next 
attempt of the French admiral was in conjunction with the Ameri- 
cans, on Rhode Island, where the British had a force of six thou- 
sand men. General Washington anticipating the design of D'Es- 
taing, Generals Greene and Lafayette were detached with two 
brigades from the main army, to co-operate with Count d'Estaing 
and General Sullivan, who was at Providence with a considerable 
force of New England troops. It was proposed that D'Estaing, 
with his troops, should make a descent on the south part of the 
island, and a body of Americans should take possession of the 
north, while the French squadron was to enter the harbour of New- 
port, and take or destroy the British shipping. On the 8th of Au- 
gust, the count entered the harbour, but found himself unable to 
do any material damage. Lord Howe instantly set sail for Rhode 
Island, and D'Estaing, confiding in his superiority, immediately 
came out of the harbour to attack him. A violent storm parted the 
two fleets, and did so much damage that they were rendered 
totally unfit for action. The French, however, suffered most ; and 
several of their ships being afterwards attacked singly, by the Bri- 
tish, narrowly escaped being taken. On the 20th of August, he 
returned to Newport, in a very shattered condition, and sailed, two 
days after, for Boston. General Sullivan had landed, in the mean 
time, on the northern part of Rhode Island, with ten thousand 
men. On the 17th of August they began their operations, by erect- 
ing batteries, and making their approaches to the British lines. 
But General Pigot had taken such effectual care to secure himself 
on the land-side, that without the assistance of a marine force it 
was impossible to attack him with any probability of success. 
The conduct of D'Estaing, therefore, who had abandoned them 
when master of the harbour, gave the greatest disgust to the peo- 
ple of New England, and Sullivan began to think of a retreat ; but 
the garrison sallied out on him with such violence that it was not 
without difficulty that he effected it. He had not been long gone, 
when Sir Henry Clinton arrived with a body of four thousand men ; 
which, had it arrived sooner, would have enabled the British com- 
mander to have gained a decisive advantage over him. 

The success of this expedition had been confidently anticipated, 
44 



346 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

and its failure caused great chagrin and vexation, which exhibited 
itself in the New England states and Boston particularly ; this 
chagrin excited the fears of Washington, and he accordingly 
addressed letters to Generals Sullivan and Heath, the commandants 
at Boston, urging them to use their influence to restrain the intem- 
perance of the moment. A letter from the Count d'Estaing, ex- 
plaining the causes of the failure of the expedition, was received 
with such marks of esteem that it appears to have quieted all serious 
mischief. Congress also passed a resolution expressing their appro- 
bation of the conduct of the count. Lord Howe, in the mean time, 
had resigned his command to Admiral Gambier, and General 
Clinton had returned to New York, leaving his troops under the 
command of General Grey, with orders to conduct an expedition 
eastward, as far as Buzzard's Bay. Grey destroyed a number of 
vessels in Acushnet River, and having reduced Bedford and Fair- 
haven, re-embarked his troops and sailed to Martha's Vineyard. 
He soon after returned to New York, and the British army moved 
up the Hudson in great force, and encamped on both sides of the 
river ; their ships of war maintaining the communication between 
their columns. 

Colonel Baylor, with his cavalry, crossed the Hackensack early 
on the 27th of September, and took quarters at Herringtown, a 
small village near New Taupan, where some militia were posted. 
Lord Cornwallis, on hearing of this movement, formed a plan to 
cut off both the cavalry and the militia posted in the town. This 
was effected by a party under General Grey and Colonel Campbell. 
The militia saved themselves by flight, but the British completely 
surprised the cavalry, and cut them to pieces. 

This act was in some measure retaliated by Colonel Richard 
Butler, with a detachment of infantry, assisted by Major Lee, with 
a part of his cavalry, who, falling in with a party of chasseurs and 
yagers commanded by Count Donop, charged and defeated them, 
killing ten men, and capturing one officer and eighteen privates. 

After completing their forage, the British army returned to New 
York. Their movement had been designed to cover an expedition 
against Little Egg Harbour, where they succeeded in destroying 
works, store-houses, vessels, and merchandise to a large amount. 
Count Pulaski, who with his legion had been charged with the 
defence, was completely surprised, through the treachery of a de- 
serter, and a considerable portion of his men were put to the bayonet 
with circumstances of barbarity very unusual in civilized warfare. 

Admiral Byron arrived in New York and took command of the 



HALF-PAY FOR LIFE TO THE OFFICERS. 347 

British fleet in September. He afterward sailed in October for 
Boston, but encountering a severe storm, he took shelter in Rhode 
Island. Count d'Estaing seized this favourable moment and sailed, 
on the 3d of November, for the West Indies. 

Lafayette, anticipating a war in Europe, w-as now desirous to 
return home ; and General Washington, actuated not less by per- 
sonal respect for this distinguished officer than by a regard for the 
public service, obtained from Congress an unlimited leave of ab- 
sence for his friend. " The partiality of America for Lafayette 
was well placed. Never did a foreigner, whose primary attach- 
ments to his own country remained undiminished, feel more solici- 
tude for the welfare of another than was unceasingly manifested by 
this young nobleman for the United States."* 

A detachment of the British army, of five thousand men, com- 
manded by General Grant, sailed, early in November, for the West 
Indies ; and during the same month, a second detachment, com- 
manded by Lieutenant-colonel Campbell, escorted by Sir Hyde 
Parker, was destined for the Southern States. 

As Washington perceived that a force sufficient for the defence 
of New York still remained, the American army was ordered to 
retire into winter quarters. The main army was cantoned in Con- 
necticut, on both sides of the North River, about West Point, and 
at Middlebrook. Light troops were stationed near the lines ; and 
the cavalry were widely distributed, at Winchester in Virginia, at 
Frederick, Maryland, at Lancaster, Pennsylvania, and at Durham, 
Connecticut. This was done with a view to facility in procuring 
forage. In the whole distribution of the army, the protection of 
the country, the security of important points, and a cheap and con- 
venient supply of provisions, were consulted. 

The soldiers were again under the necessity of wintering in huts, 
to which they had in some measure become accustomed. They 
were better clothed than in the preceding winter, in consequence 
of the supplies received from France ; and their condition on the 
whole was far more comfortable than during any preceding winter 
of the war. 

Towards the latter end of April, Congress had resolved to grant 
half-pay for life to the officers in their army, reserving to themselves 
the privilege of redeeming, at any time they might think proper, 
this annual stipend, by the payment of a sum equivalent to the half- 
pay for six years. General Washington had repeatedly urged the 
necessity of adopting some measure of this sort, that men might 
find it to their interest to enter into the service. No man was better 

* Marshall. 



348 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

acquainted with human nature than Washington. He knew that 
"with far the greatest part of mankind, iiaterest is the governing 
principle, and motives of public virtue were not of themselves suffi- 
cient to keep the American army together for any extended period. 
His letters to Congress on this subject are, master-strokes of policy, 
and evince a profoundness of wisdom, which shows how well he 
knew how to profit by the lessons of experience. The letter which 
seems to have been the immediate cause of the resolution of Con- 
gress, was that of April 21, in which he thus writes : "Men may 
speculate as they will; they may talk of patriotism ; they may draw 
a few examples from ancient story of great achievements performed 
by its influence ; but whoever builds upon it as a sufficient basis 
for conducting a long and bloody war, will find himself deceived 
in the end. We must take the passions of men as nature has 
given them, and those principles as a guide w^hich are generally 
the rule of action. I do not mean to exclude altogether the idea 
of patriotism. I know it exists, and I know it has done much in 
the present contest ; but I will venture to assert, that a great and 
lasting war can never be supported on this principle alone. It 
must be aided by a prospect of interest or some reward. For a 
time it may of itself push men to action, to bear much, to encounter 
difficulties, but it will not endure unassisted by interest. Without 
arrogance, or the smallest deviation from truth, it may be said, 
that no history now extant can furnish an instance of an army's 
suffering such uncommon hardships as ours has done, and bearing 
them with the same patience and fortitude. To see men without 
clothes to cover their nakedness, w^ithout blankets to lie on, without 
shoes, so that their marches might be traced by the blood of their feet, 
and almost as often without as with provisions, marching through 
frost and snow, and at Christmas taking up their winter quarters 
within a day's march of the enemy, without a house or hut to cover 
them till they could be built, and submitting to all without a murmur, 
is a mark of patience and obedience, which, in my opinion, can 
scarcely be paralleled." Down to the date of this letter, no cartel 
had been settled for the exchange of prisoners. A few instances 
of exchange only had taken place, among which were those of Lee 
for General Prescott, and Major Otho Williams for Major Ackland ; 
but Congress seemed unwilling to agree to any terms, until their 
former resolution on the subject should be complied with, throwing 
the blame, however, upon Sir William Howe and his commissioners. 
Washington, on the contrary, thought the pubhc faith and his own 
honour pledged, as will be seen by his letter which follows. " It 



EXCHANGE OF PRISONERS. 349 

may be thought," says he, "contrary to our interest to go into an 
exchange, as the enemy would derive more immediate advantage 
from it than we should : but on principles of genuine extensive 
policy, independent of the consideration of compassion and justice, 
we are under an obligation not to elude it. An event of this kind 
is the general wish of the country. I know it to be the wish of the 
army, and it must be the ardent wish of the unhappy sufferers them- 
selves. Should the exchange be deferred till the terms of the last 
resolve of Congress on the subject are fulfdled, it will be difficult 
to prevent our being generally accused with a breach of good faith. 
Speculative minds may consider all our professions as mere profes- 
sions, or at least, that interest and policy are to be the only arbiters 
of their validity. I cannot doubt that Congress, in preservation of 
the public faith and my personal honour, will remove all impedi- 
ments that now oppose themselves to my engagements, and will 
authorize me, through commissioners, to settle as extensive and 
competent a cartel as may appear advantageous and necessary, any 
resolutions heretofore to the contrary notwithstanding." This letter 
produced the effect of relieving Washington in some measure from 
his unpleasant embarrassment, as Congress soon after resolved that 
he might proceed in his arrangements for an exchange without 
excluding those prisoners whose accounts remained unsettled. 
Commissioners were consequently appointed on both sides ; but 
mutual objections arose to every thing like a general proposal, and 
the affair was left in its former state. 

In the course of this summer, the western country had been the 
scene of most distressing events ; the feuds between the independ- 
ents and loyalists having raged with peculiar violence in this wild 
region. The latter complained, probably not without reason, that 
the rigorous laws enacted against them were enforced with severe 
aggravations, and many sought an asylum beyond the limits of 
the colonies. There they found themselves among the Indians, a 
race always bitterly hostile to the white borderers, and easily ex- 
cited to the most daring enterprises. Unhappily the passions of the 
refugees were worked up to such violence, that instead of urging a 
milder mode of warfare, they stimulated these allies to deeds of 
more than their wonted barbarity. Wyoming, a flourishing settle- 
ment on the Pennsylvania frontier, w'as suddenly assailed, the 
slender militia force which defended it overpowered, and the inhabit- 
ants exposed to all the horrors of Indian vengeance and massacre. 
From the lateness of the season, only a few partial attempts could 
be made to retaliate. Next spring, however, General Sullivan was 

2 G 



350 



LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 




VALLEY OF V7Y0LIING. 



despatched with four thousand men, and joined by General Clinton 
with another division from the Mohawk River. They entered the 
territory of the Indians, who, quite unable to resist so large a force, 
abandoned their homes and fled before them. The villages were 
then reduced to ashes, every trace of cultivation obliterated, and 
the region rendered as much as possible uninhabitable. This rigour 
is said to have been authorized by Washington, and justified on 
the ground, that without interposing a desert between the states 
and this savage race, no security could be enjoyed on the frontier. 
The attention of Congress and of the commander was now called 
to plans for the campaign of 1779. The former, looking to their 
previous successes, and the powerful co-operation of France, che- 
rished the most brilliant expectations, and had formed schemes 
truly magnificent. Concluding that the English would be speedily 
expelled, or would of their own accord depart from America, the 
chief object was to be the invasion of Canada from three different 
points, the French being invited to co-operate. Washington, on 
learning this vast design, took the utmost pains to prove its futiUty. 
He disclosed to them the painful truths, that the English were still 
so powerful both by land and sea, as to afford no speedy prospect of 
their complete expulsion; while the exhausted state of the finances, 
the imperfect organization of the army, and the extreme destitution 



, STATE OF THE COUNTRY. 351 

under which it laboured, furnished no means whatever for carrying 
on such mighty operations. A committee of Congress, on further 
consideration, recommended that the project should be deferred; 
yet the members still clung to it, fondly contemplating its execution 
some time before the season closed, and wishing communications 
to be opened on that subject with the French court. The general, 
considering the project, even thus modified, as still quite inadmis- 
sible, repaired to Philadelphia, where he urged strongly all his 
former arguments, and confidentially pointed out to the leading 
statesmen the danger of admitting France into a country where she 
had so long ruled, and whose people bore still decided traces of her 
relationship. It appears, indeed, that, probably from the dread of 
embarrassment in some future negotiation, that power by no means 
favoured schemes of American conquest. Washington at last suc- 
ceeded in convincing Congress, that instead of these grand mea- 
sures of invasion, they must limit themselves, during the present 
campaign, to a course strictly defensive. 

In fact, both the civil and military strength of the union was 
now at a lower ebb than at any time since the struggle com- 
menced. The members of Congress had originally consisted of 
the ablest men in America, animated by the most ardent zeal, and 
implicitly obeyed by all the votaries of their cause. After the de- 
claration of independence, however, a new modification of the 
government was considered necessary. A constitution was drawn 
up, and, after many delays and difficulties, brought into operation 
early in 1779, under which the state legislatures were invested 
with all the most important powers, resigning only a few which 
were judged indispensable for united action. Congress still re- 
tained the direction of foreign affairs, of the war, and consequently 
of the naval and military force ; but to furnish men and supplies 
for these services, they had no resource, except requisitions, ad- 
dressed to the state legislatures. The latter had the complete 
option, whether they should or should not comply, and had many 
motives which strongly inclined them to the latter alternative ; in- 
deed, comphance could only be afforded by measures very unpo- 
pular, and which w^ould have much disobliged their constituents. 
The demands of Congress w^ere thus only partially and unequally 
fulfilled, and the levies never approached the amount at which 
they were nominally fixed. The financial state of the country, too, 
was embarrassing in the extreme. The colonists, at the beginning 
of the war, had been very little accustomed to any serious taxation ; 
and having taken arms expressly to resist it, would have ill brooked 



352 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

paying a larger amount for their expenses than Britain had ever 
demanded. It was not till November, 1777, that Congress ven- 
tured to make a requisition of five millions of dollars annually, to 
•which the states but faintly responded. France and Spain gave 
some assistance, first in gift, and then in loan ; but as their own 
finances grew embarrassed, these contributions became very stinted. 
The commissioners endeavoured to treat for loans with European 
capitalists, especially in Holland, and with this view drew a flat-j 
tering picture of the future prosperity of the new republic, and her 
ultimate power to repay even the largest advances ; but the Dutch 
were not inclined to be satisfied with such security, and money 
could be got only in small amounts, and on exorbitant terms. 
One house made a somewhat liberal offer, but on condition of car- 
rying on the whole trade of the Union, and holding all its real and 
personal property in mortgage. In these circumstances, the states 
had no resource except paper money. In 1775, they issued three 
millions of dollars ; and this moderate amount being easily ab- 
sorbed in the circulation, proved an available resource. They were 
thus encouraged to pour forth repeated issues, which, at the begin- 
ning of 1779, had risen to above a hundred millions, and in the 
course of the year to double that amount, which they had pledged 
themselves not to exceed. The necessary consequence was a de- 
preciation of the notes to about a fortieth part of their nominal 
value, and hence a miserable derangement in all mercantile and 
money transactions. The evil was aggravated, too, by preposterous 
remedies. The paper at its nominal value was made a legal tender 
lor all debts ; and by this iniquitous measure, which Washington 
deeply regretted, many creditors, both public and private, were 
defrauded, but no permanent relief could be afforded. As the arti- 
cles furnished to the army, like all others, rose to an enormous 
nominal value, they were so ignorant as to fix a maximum, above 
which they should not be received. The consequence was, that 
at tliis inadequate rate none could be got ; and the army would 
have perished had not these absurd regulations been rescinded.* 

A naval action which took place this year excited considerable 
interest, from the distressing circumstances attending it. On the 
7th of Marchj. 1778, the Randolph, an American frigate of 
thirty-six guns, and three hundred and five men, commanded by 
Captain Nicholas Diddle, having sailed on a cruise from Charles- 
ton, fell in with the Yarmouth, of sixty-four guns, and engaged 
lier in the night. Soon after the engagement commenced. Captain 

• Allen, 



LOSS OF THE RANDOLPH. 



353 



Biddle was wounded in the thigh, and fell. He instantly ordered 
a chair to be brought ; said he was only slightly wounded ; and 
was carried forward to encourage his crew. Twenty minutes after 
the action commenced, the Randolph blew up. Four men only 
were saved upon a piece of her wreck. These men subsisted for 
four days on nothing but rain water, which they sucked from 
a piece of blanket. ' On the fifth day, Captain Vincent of the Yar- 
mouth, though in chase of a ship, on discovering them, sus- 
pended the chase and took them on board. Captain Biddle, who 
perished on board the Randolph, was an officer of distinguished 
merit ; and his loss was universally regretted. 




45 



2g2 



354 



LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 




CHAPTER XVII. 



HE conquest of Canada being still a 
favourite scheme, General Washington 
was requested, by a resolution of Con- 
gress, to write to Dr. Franklin, the Ame- 
rican minister at Paris, explaining to 
him the proposed expedition against that 
province, with a view to interest him 
in securing the co-operation of France. 
In reply, he wrote to Congress a letter, 
from Middlebrook, dated 13th of Decem- 
ber, 1778, in which he said : 

" The earnest desire I have to render the strictest compHance in 
every instance to the views and instructions of Congress, cannot 
but make me feel the greatest uneasiness, when I find myself in 
circumstances of hesitation or doubt with respect to their directions. 
But the perfect confidence I have in the justice and candour of that 




PROPOSED INVASION OF CANADA. 355 

honourable body emboldens me to communicate, without reserve, 
the difficulties which occur in the execution of their present order; 
and the indulgence I have experienced on every former occasion 
induces me to imagine, that the liberty I now take will not meet 
with their disapprobation. 

" I have attentively taken up the report of the committee, re- 
specting the proposed expedition into Canada. I have considered 
it in several lights, and sincerely regret, that I should feel myself 
under any embarrassment in carrying it into execution. Still, I 
remain of opinion, from a general review of things, and the state 
of our resources, that no extensive system of co-operation with the 
French, for the complete emancipation of Canada, can be posi- 
tively decided on for the ensuing year. To propose a plan of per- 
fect co-operation with a foreign power, without a moral certainty 
of our supplies, and to have that plan actually ratified by the court 
of Versailles, might be attended, in case of failure in the conditions 
on our part, with very fatal effects. 

" If I should seem unwilling to transmit the plan as prepared 
by Congress, with my observations, it is because I find myself 
under a necessity, in order to give our minister sufficient ground 
on which to found an application, to propose something more than 
a vague and undecisive plan, which, even in the event of a total 
evacuation of these states by the enemy, may be rendered imprac- 
ticable in the execution, by a variety of insurmountable obstacles ; 
or, if I retain my present sentiments and act consistently, I must 
point out the difficulties as they appear to me : which must em- 
barrass his negotiations, and may disappoint the views of Con- 
gress, 

'< But, proceeding on the idea of the enemy's leaving these 

states, before the active part of the ensuing campaign, I should 

fear to hazard a mistake as to the precise aim and extent of the 

views of Congress. The line of conduct that I am to observe, in 

.... * 

writing to our minister at the court of France, does not appear 

sufficiently marked. Were I to undertake it, I should be much 
afraid of erring, through misconception. In this dilemma, I 
should esteem it a particular favour to be excused from writing at 
all on the subject, especially as it is the part of candour in me to 
acknowledge, that I do not see my way clear enough to point 
out such a plan for co-operation as I conceive to be consistent 
with the ideas of Congress, and that will be sufficiently explana- 
tory, -vvith respect to time and circumstances, to give efficacy to 
the measure. But, if Congress still think it necessary for me to 



356 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

proceed in the business, I must request their more definitive and 
explicit instructions, and that they will permit me, previous to 
transmitting the intended despatches, to submit them to their de- 
termination. 

" I could wish to lay before Congress more minutely the state 
of the army, the condition of our supplies, and the requisites ne- 
cessary for carrying into execution an undertaking that may in- 
volve the most serious events. If Congress think this can be done 
more satisfactorily in a personal conference, I hope to have the 
army in such a situation, before I can receive their answer, as to 
af&rd me an opportunity of giving my attendance." 

The personal interview requested in the latter part of this letter 
was agreed to, and the commander-in-chief, leaving the head-quar- 
ters of this army on the 22d of December, presented himself before 
Congress on the 24th. A committee was appointed to confer with 
him on the operations of the coming campaign. Such was the 
strength and cogency of the arguments which he used to con- 
vince this committee of the impracticability of the Canada ex- 
pedition, that in five days they decided, and their decision was 
approved by Congress, to lay aside all thoughts of such an under- 
taking. 

In this, and all other instances throughout the life of General 
Washington, it is not easy to determine wherein he was most essen- 
tial to the welfare of his country ; whether in the skill and bravery 
with which he led her armies to victory, or in the passive, but not 
less inflexible aspect of his character ; in the unconquerable firm- 
ness with which he stood up under the severest complication of 
misfortunes ; in the singular uprightness and wisdom by which he 
was qualified to compose the dissensions of men and parties, and 
the commanding but unobtruded influence with which he could 
sway the collective mind of a legislature or an empire. 

Washington remained in Philadelphia about five weeks, during 
which time he submitted to the committee of Congress three plans 
of operations for the next campaign, with remarks on the mode 
of executing them. The first, proposed an attempt to drive the 
enemy from the posts which they then occupied at New York and 
Rhode Island ; the second, an expedition against Niagara, which 
would give security upon the northern frontier, and open a door 
into Canada, which might be afterwards used or not, as policy 
might dictate ; and the third plan proposed to hold the army en- 
tirely on the defensive, except such smaller operations against the 
Indians, as would be absolutely necessary to chastise them for de- 



PLAN OF THE FIFTH CAMPAIGN. 357 

predations on the frontiers, and prevent them from a repetition of 
the same. 

The advantages and disadvantages which were attendant upon 
each of these plans, were laid fully before the committee, and by 
them communicated to Congress. 

« It is much to be regretted," he said, after discussing the two 
plans, "that our prospect of any capital offensive operations is so 
slender, that we seem in a manner to be driven to the necessity of 
adopting the third plan, that is, to remain entirely on the defensive, 
except such lesser operations against the Indians as are absolutely 
necessary to divert their ravages from us. The advantages of 
this plan are these : It will afford an opportunity of retrenching 
our expenses, and of adopting a general system of economy, which 
may give success to the plans of finance which Congress have in 
contemplation, and perhaps enable them to do something effectual 
for the relief of pubhc credit, and for restoring the value of our cur- 
rency. It will also give some repose to the country in general, 
and by leaving a greater number of hands to cultivate the lands, 
remove the apprehension of a scarcity of supplies. 

"If this plan is determined upon, every measure of government 
ought to correspond. The most uniform principle of economy 
should pervade every department. We should not be frugal in 
one part, and prodigal in another. We should contract, but we 
should consolidate our system. The army, though small, should 
be of a firm and permanent texture. Every thing possible should 
be done to make the situation of the officers and soldiers comfort- 
able, and every inducement offered to engage men during the 
war. The most effectual plan that can be devised for enlisting 
those already in the army, and recruiting in the country, ought to 
be carried into immediate execution. 

"I shall not enter particularly into the measures that may be 
taken against the Indians, but content myself with the general idea 
thrown out, unless it should be the pleasure of the committee that 
I should be more expKcit. The main body of the army must take 
a position so as to be most easily subsisted, and at the same time 
best situated to restrain the enemy from ravaging the country. If- 
they should hereafter weaken themselves still more, so as to give a 
favourable opening, we should endeavour to improve it. 

"This plan may perhaps have some serious disadvantages. Our 
inactivity will be an argument of our weakness, and may injure 
nur credit and confidence with foreign powers. This may influence 
the negotiations of Europe to our disadvantage. I would not sup- 



358 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

pose it could alienate our allies, or induce them to renounce our 
interests. Their own, if well understood, are too closely interwoven 
with them ; their national faith and honour are pledged. At home, 
too, it may serve to dispirit the people, and give confidence to the 
disaffected. It will give leisure for factious and discontented spirits 
to excite divisions. How far these inconveniences ought to influ- 
ence us in our operations. Congress can alone be a competent 
judge." 

Congress resolved to adopt the third plan, and in the beginning 
of February Washington returned to the head-quarters of his army 
at Middlebrook. Some of the evils which had been dreaded, and 
in some degree guarded against, soon began to manifest themselves. 
The vigilance of the people was lulled and their energies were para- 
lyzed by the thought that their independence was now secure ; that 
the powerful assistance of France, the second nation of Europe,would 
not fail to achieve at once a glorious victory for them over their 
ancient rival, England ; and besides, there were whispers abroad 
that Spain was about to declare war against Great Britain, and 
that Russia refused or neglected to lend the latter nation aid, which 
she had promised her since the commencement of hostilities. 

It is needless to show the fallacy of these hopes. Washington 
saw with great concern the origin and gradual spreading of this 
temper among his countrymen, and it is not too much to say that 
all hopes of American independence would, at this critical period, 
have ceased, but for the conduct of him who has well earned for 
himself the title of Father of his Country. He describes this period 
as the darkest and most critical that had occurred since the com- 
mencement of the contest. He knew enough of Britain to know 
that the war was not yet near its conclusion, and stimulated Con- 
gress and the states to exertion, by every consideration which he 
could suggest. Though the resolution empowering him to recruit 
the army was passed on the 23d of January, yet the requisition for 
the troops was not made upon the states until the 9th of March. 

The apprehensions which these and other circumstances excited 
in the mind of General Washington, are thus fully stated in a letter 
to a friend, of great political influence. <'I am particularly desirous 
of a free communication of sentiments with you at this time," he 
says, "because I view things very differently, I fear, from what 
people m general do, who seem to think the contest at an end, and 
that to make money and get places are the only things now remain- 
ing to be done. I have seen, without despondency even for a mo- 
ment, the hours which America has styled her gloomy ones ; but 



DEPENDENCE ON FRANCE. 359 

I have beheld no day since the commencement of hostilities, when 
I have thought her liberties in such imminent danger as at present. 
Friends and foes seem now to combine to pull down the goodly 
fabric we have hitherto been raising at the expense of so much time, 
blood, and treasure." 

After censuring with some freedom the prevailing opinions of 
the day, he added, "To me it appears no unjust simile to compare 
the affairs of this great continent to the mechanism of a clock, each 
state representing some one or other of the smaller parts of it, which 
they are endeavouring to put in fine order, without considering 
how useless and unavailing their labour is, unless the great wheel, 
or spring, which is to set the whole in motion, is also well attended 
to, and kept in good order. I allude to no particular state, nor do 
I mean to cast reflections on any one of them, nor ought I, it may 
be said, to do so on their representatives ; but, as it is a fact too 
notorious to be concealed, that Congress is rent by party ; that 
much business of a trifling nature and personal concernment with- 
draws their attention from matters of great national moment at this 
critical period ; when it is also known that idleness and dissipation 
take place of close attention and application, no man who washes 
well to the liberties of this country, and desires to see its rights 
established, can avoid crying out — where are our men of abilities .'' 
Why do they not come forth to save their country .'' Let this voice, 
my dear sir, call upon you, Jefferson, and some others. Do not, 
from a mistaken opinion that we are to sit down under our vine 
and our own fig-tree, let our hitherto noble struggle end in igno- 
miny. Believe me when I tell you there is danger of it. I have 
pretty good reasons for thinking that administration, a little while 
ago, had resolved to give the matter up, and negotiate a peace 
M'ith us upon almost any terms ; but I shall be much mistaken if 
they do not now, from the present state of our currency, dissen- 
sions, and other circumstances, push matters to the utmost extre- 
mity. Nothing I am sure will prevent it but the intervention of 
Spain, and their disappointed hope from Russia." 

Nor was this the only circumstance which called for the interpo- 
sition of the general's influence. The depreciation of the paper 
currency had so affected the pay of the officers, that many were 
reduced to absolute indigence. Their sufferings led to desperate 
measures ; and in the following May, when the New Jersey bri- 
gade was ordered to march, as a part of the western expedition 
against the Indians, the officers of the first regiment sent a memorial 
to the legislature of the state, demanding, in very strong language, 



360 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

some equitable provision for them and their men, and stating that 
unless their demand was acceded to, they would, in three days, 
resign their commissions. This proceeding was communicated by 
Brigadier-general Maxwell, and Washington at once foresaw the 
pernicious results which would ensue from such a proceeding to the 
army at large, and he endeavoured to obviate them by addressing 
a letter to General Maxwell, to be laid before the officers, exhorting 
them to order and obedience, and commanding them to march with 
the brigade in the first place to head-quarters, where they would 
receive further orders. 

In the mean time, the legislature of New Jersey was embarrassed 
by the form of the application, as it assumed the air of menace, 
and some of the members said, that rather than yield to demands 
thus presented, however reasonable they might be, they would 
permit. the brigade to be disbanded. To obviate this, the only 
difficulty which they perceived, they hit upon the expedient of per- 
suading the officers to withdraw their memorial, with the under- 
standing that the subject would then be instantly taken into con- 
sideration. The paper was withdrawn, and in a few hours reso- 
lutions were passed, granting nearly all that had been asked. 

Washington improved this event, in communicating it to Con- 
gress, to urge upon them the absolute necessity of some general 
and adequate provision for the officers of the army ; and observing 
" that the distresses in some corps are so great, either where they 
were not till lately attached to particular states, or where the states 
have been less provident, that officers have solicited even to be 
supplied with the clothing destined for the common soldiery. 
Coarse and unsuitable as they were, I had not power to comply 
with the request. The patience of men, animated by a sense of 
duty and honour, will support them to a certain point, beyond 
which it will not go. I doubt not Congress will be sensible of the 
danger of an extreme in this respect, and will pardon my anxiety 
to obviate it." 

The endeavours of Washington, at this time, to stimulate the 
exertions of his countrymen, were so far effectual, that by the 1st 
of May, he found nearly sixteen thousand men under his command. 
It was, however, obviously out of his power to make any thing like 
a successful attack upon the strongholds of the British ; and he 
therefore so disposed his forces as to protect the country from the 
incursions of the enemy, and guard the high lands on the Hudson 
river. Upwards of seven thousand men were stationed at Middle- 
brook, under the immediate command of Washington; the remainder 



AMERICANS AT WEST POINT. 861 

were on both sides of the Hudson, under Generals McDougall and 
Putnam, 

At the same time the British army at New York and Rhode 
Island amounted to about the same number, (sixteen thousand,) but 
they were assisted by a powerful fleet, which enabled them, with 
small detachments, to make sudden attacks on distant parts of the 
country, before the militia could be gathered together, or a company 
of regulars arrive. 

It was in this way that General Matthews, with eighteen 
hundred men, gained such success in Virginia. He left Sandy 
Hook on the 5th of May, and, saihng up the Chesapeake bay, 
landed without opposition, and sending small parties to Ports- 
mouth, Norfolk, Gosport, and Suffolk, took and carried off or 
destroyed a large quantity of naval and military stores, paying no 
respect to private property. Having thus accomplished the object 
of his expedition, he reimbarked his troops and returned to New 
York, before the end of the month. 

Immediately on the return of this detachment, the British army, 
under Sir Henr^- Clinton, transported by the fleet, proceeded up 
the Hudson river. During the previous year, fortifications had been 
commenced at West Point, which w^as deemed more defensible 
than the positions lately occupied by Forts Clinton and Montgo- 
mery. The works at this place were yet far from being finished. 
It was a matter of the greatest importance to General Washington 
to preserve an uninterrupted communication between the Middle 
and Eastern States. The great road leading from one section of 
the country to the other crosses the Hudson at King's Ferry, some 
miles below West Point. Detachments of Washington's army now 
occupied positions on both sides of the river, commanding the 
ferry, and covering the incomplete works above. That on the 
western bank was stationed on a rough elevated piece of ground 
called Stony Point, where defences had been commenced, but were 
far from being completed. That on the eastern bank occupied a 
small fort called Lafayette on Verplanck's Point, a low flat penin- 
sula, projecting some distance into the river, and extending to- 
wards the works on the other side. The works at Fort Lafayette 
were in a state of greater forwardness than those at Stony Point. 
The present movement of the British army and fleet was intended 
to effect the reduction of these two posts, the capture of West 
Point, the division of Washington's army, and perhaps that of the 
states of the confederacy. 

Having arrived within eight miles of King's Ferry, Clinton 
46 2H 



362 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

landed the largest division of his army on the eastern bank of the 
river, under the command of General Vaughan, while he himself 
accompanied the other division, five miles higher up the river, and 
there landed on the western side. The unfinished w^orks at Stony- 
Point, garrisoned by only forty men, were considered too weak for 
defence against the large army which they saw cautiously approach- 
ing. The garrison accordingly abandoned the place, after setting 
fire to a block-house on the top of the hill, taking with them their 
munitions and stores. Clinton took possession of it unopposed, on 
the afternoon of the same day, May 31st, and in the night dragged 
up some heavy cannon and mortars, which he planted on the brow 
of the hill, pointing towards the fort on the opposite side of the 
river. 

At five o'clock the next morning, a heavy fire was opened upon 
Fort Lafayette, by the commanding battery at Stony Point, and the 
vessels in the river, two of which succeeded in passing the fort, 
and cutting off all chance of retreat by water. General Vaughan, 
having made a long circuit, completely invested the place by land. 
Thus surrounded and attacked on all sides by a vastly superior 
force, the small garrison of seventy men, commanded by Captain 
Armstrong, held out the whole day, and then capitulated, surren- 
dering themselves prisoners of war, on honourable terms. 

Sir Henry Clinton gave immediate directions for completing the 
fortifications of both posts, and putting them in a strong state of 
defence. But General Washington, having received early informa- 
tion of his advance up the river, had already strengthened West 
Point, and taken such a strong position with his main army at 
Smith's Clove, that he saw the impossibility, at that time, either 
of advancing further, or attacking with a chance of success the 
American jcamp. Besides, he heard that Staten Island was threat- 
ened in his absence. He deemed it most advisable to place such 
strong garrisons in the captured posts as would effectually prevent 
their being retaken, while he, with the main army, retired to a cen- 
tral position, from which he might give assistance, either to them 
on the one hand, or to New York and its dependencies on the 
other. A garrison of one thousand men was consequently left; at 
Stony Point, one of five thousand at Fort Lafayette, and the main 
army retired to Phillipsburg. 

Clinton next attempted by a diversion in Connecticut to draw 
General Washington from the strong positions which he had taken 
in the highlands. For this purpose Major-general Tryon, with two 
thousand six hundred men, sailed from New York on the 3d of 



TAKING OF STONY POINT. 363 

July, and landed on the coast of Connecticut. After pillaging 
New Haven, he proceeded to Fairfield, where, meeting with some 
opposition, he became infuriated, destroyed the public property, 
and then laid the village in ashes, and treated many unarmed per- 
sons with the greatest brutality. The towns of Norwalk and Green- 
field, which were successively visited, shared the same unhappy 
fate with Fairfield. The ultimate object of the expedition was the 
town of New London, but the opposition of the people increased to 
such a degree, that Tryon thought it advisable not to attempt it 
for the present. He accordingly returned to New York, to boast 
of his exploits to General Clinton. 

Intelligence of the invasion of Connecticut was late in reaching 
the commandei--in-chief, as he was visiting the outposts in the 
vicinity of Stony Point, when the news of the sailing of the fleet 
was received at head-quarters. As soon as he learned it, however, 
he promptly despatched continental troops from the nearest en- 
campments, and sent expresses to the governor of the state, and 
the militia officers in the vicinity of what he supposed would be 
the point of attack. He understood the design of the British 
general, however, and took care not to weaken his forces in the 
highlands to such an extent as to give him the desired advantage. 
On the contrary, he immediately planned a counter-attack against 
Stony Point, which, if successful, would so far alarm Clinton as to 
induce him to recall the detachment from Connecticut for the pur- 
pose of defending his own outposts. 

"The execution of the plan was intrusted to General Wayne, 
who commanded the light infantry of the army. Secrecy was 
deemed so much more essential to success than numbers, that no 
addition was made to the force already on the lines. One brigade 
was ordered to commence its march, so as to reach the scene of 
action in time to cover the troops engaged in the attack, should 
any unlooked-for disaster befall them ; and Major Lee of the light 
dragoons, who had been eminently useful in obtaining the intelli- 
gence which led to the enterprise, was associated with General 
Wayne, as far as cavalry could be employed in such a service. 
The night of the 15th, and the hour of twelve, were chosen for the 
assault. 

"Stony Point is a commanding hill projecting far into the Hud- 
son, which washes three-fourths of its base. The remaining fourth 
is, in a great measure, covered by a deep marsh, commencing 
near the river on the upper side, and continuing into it below. 
Over this marsh there is only one crossing-place ; but at its junc- 



364 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

tion with the river is a sandy beach, passable at low tide. On the 
summit of this hill stood the fort. In addition to these defences, 
several vessels of war were stationed in the river, and commanded 
the ground at the foot of the hill. The garrison consisted of about 
six hundred men, commanded by Colonel Johnson. 

<< General Wayne arrived about eight in the afternoon at Spring 
Steel's, one and a half miles from the fort ; and made his disposi- 
tions for the assault. 

" It was intended to attack the works on the right and left flanks 
at the same instant. The regiments of Febiger and of Meigs, with 
Major Hull's detachment, formed the right column, and Butler's 
regiment, with two companies under Major Murfree, formed the 
left. One hundred and fifty volunteers, led by Lieutenant-colonel 
Fleury and Major Posey, constituted the van of the right, and one 
hundred volunteers, under Major Stewart, composed the van of the 
left. At half-past eleven, the two columns moved to the assault, 
the van of each with unloaded muskets and fixed bayonets. They 
were each preceded by a forlorn hope of twenty men, the one com- 
manded by Lieutenant Gibbon, and the other by Lieutenant Knox. 
They reached the marsh undiscovered ; and, at twenty minutes 
after twelve, commenced the assault. 

Both columns rushed forward under a tremendous fire. Sur- 
mounting every obstacle, they entered the works at the point of 
the bayonet ; and, without discharging a single musket, obtained 
possession of the fort. 

"The humanity displayed by the conquerors was not less con- 
spicuous nor less honourable than their courage. Not an indivi- 
dual suffered after resistance had ceased. 

"All the troops engaged in this perilous service manifested a 
degree of ardour and impetuosity which proved them to be capa- 
ble of the most difficult enterprises ; and all distinguished them- 
selves whose situation enabled them to do so. Colonel Fleury was 
the first to enter the fort and strike the British standard. Major 
Posey mounted the works almost at the same instant, and was the 
first to give the watchword, 'The fOrt's our own.' Lieutenants 
Gibbon and Knox performed the service allotted to them with a 
degree of intrepidity which could not be surpassed. Of twenty 
men who constituted the party of the former, seventeen were killed 
or wounded. 

"Sixty-three of the garrison were killed, including two officers. 
The prisoners amounted to five hundred and forty-three, among 
whom were one Heutenant-colonel, fo\ir captains, and twenty sub- 



THE ARMY AT WEST POINT. 365 

altern officers. The military stores taken in the fort were consider- 
able. 

"The loss sustained by the assailants was not proportioned to 
the apparent danger of the enterprise. The killed and wounded 
did not exceed one hundred men. General Wayne, who marched 
with Febiger's regiment in the right column, received a slight 
wound in the head, which stunned him for a time, but did not 
compel him to leave the column. Being supported by his aides, 
he entered the fort with the regiment. Lieutenant-colonel Hay 
was also among the wounded."* 

An attempt was at the same time made on the opposite fort, but 
without success. This failure, together with the fact that it would 
require a garrison of fifteen hundred men to defend Stony Point 
against the enemy's shipping, induced General Washington to 
demolish and abandon it. He had no sooner retired than it was 
re-occupied and repaired by Sir Henry Clinton. 

Though these transactions but slightly affected the general aspect 
of the war, yet they afforded to Congress an opportunity, which they 
gladly embraced, of passing a vote of thanks to the general, " for the 
wisdom, vigilance, and magnanimity with which he conducted the 
military operations of the nation, and particularly for the enter- 
prise upon Stony Point." They also unanimously voted their 
thanks to General Wayne for his brave and soldier-like attack, and 
presented to him a gold medal commemorative of the event. 

After replacing the garrison of Stony Point, Sir Henry Clinton 
descended the river, and took post above Haerlem, his line extending 
to Kingsbridge. General Washington established his head-quar- 
ters at West Point, on the 21st of July, and from that day, until 
the month of December, when the army retired to winter quarters, 
he gave his attention principally to the completion of the works at 
that post. His army was now posted for the purpose of defensive 
operations, on both sides of the Hudson. The right wing, under 
the command of General Putnam, on the western side, occupying 
the highlands to their southern point at King's Ferry ; the left 
wing, under General Heath, was stationed on the east side of the 
river; while the centre, consisting only of the garrison, and compa- 
nies on fatigue duty at West Point, was under the immediate com- 
mand of General McDougall. From this strong position General 
Washington frequently detached skirmishing parties on both sides 
of the river, in order to check the British foragers, and to restrain 
their intercourse with the loyalists. Major Henry Lee, who com- 

• Marshall, 8vo, p. 310—312. 
2 H 2 



366 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

manded one of these parties, having received information that the 
garrison of the British post at Pauhis Hook, on the Jersey bank 
of the Hudson, opposite the city of New York, was in a state of 
negligent security, planned a bold and hazardous enterprise for its 
surprise and capture. For this purpose he advanced against it 
silently, on the morning of the 19th of August, at the head of three 
hundred men, and a troop of dismounted dragoons. The sentinel 
at the gate, never dreaming that an enemy could advance so far 
within the lines, and supposing the force advancing so orderly and 
securely to be a detachment which had gone out on a foraging ex- 
cursion the preceding evening, paid no further attention to them 
until they were within the enclosure, when, almost in an instant, 
they separated into parties and seized the block-house and two 
redoubts. Major Sutherland, the commandant of the post, with 
sixty Hessians, hastily entered another redoubt and commenced 
a brisk fire upon the assailants. This only served to spread the 
notice of the attack ; and the firing of guns in New York, and by 
the vessels in the roads, proved that the alarm was general. The 
design of Major Lee, being not to keep possession of this post, but 
to carry off the garrison, to reflect credit on the American arms, 
and to encourage a spirit of enterprise in the army, he immediately 
complied with the verbal instructions of the commander-in-chief, 
given to him some days previously, and retired with the loss of two 
men killed, and three wounded, carrying with him one hundred 
and fifty-nine prisoners. 

The manner of life of Washington, while he was thus effectually 
holding the enemy in check, defeating all their projects for getting 
possession of the highlands, and, by a few brilliant strokes, keeping 
the public mind from despondency, may be gathered from a letter, 
inviting a friend to dine with him at head-quarters, dated West 
Point, 16th of August, 1779. This letter, which was addressed 
to Dr. Cochran, surgeon and physician-general of the army, shows, 
that in the midst of the most harassing duties, when oppressed 
with public cares, he could still, when occasion required, be play- 
ful and facetious. The letter is as follows : 

" Dear Doctor, — I have asked Mrs. Cochran and Mrs. Livingston 
to dine with me to-morrow ; but, am I not in honour bound to 
apprize them of their fare ? As I hate deception, even where the 
imagination only is concerned, I will. It is needless to premise, 
that my table is large enough to hold the ladies. Of this they 
had ocular proof yesterday. To say how it is usually covered. 



MONSIEUR GERARD. 367 

is rather more essential ; and this shall be the purport of my 
letter. 

<< Since our arrival at this happy spot, we have had a ham, 
sometimes a shoulder of bacon, to grace the head of the table ; a 
piece of roast beef adorns the foot ; and a dish of beans, or greens, 
almost imperceptible, decorates the centre. When the cook has a 
mind to cut a figure, which I presume will be the case to-morrow, 
we have two beef-steak pies, or dishes of crabs, in addition, one 
on each side of the centre dish, dividing the space, and reducing 
the distance between dish and dish, to about six feet, which, with- 
out them, would be near twelve feet apart. Of late he has had the 
surprising sagacity to discover that apples will make pies ; and 
it is a question, if, in the violence of his efforts, we do not get one 
of apples, instead of having both of beef-steaks. If the ladies can 
put up with such entertainment, and will submit to partake of it 
on plates, once tin, but now iron, (not become so by the labour of 
scouring,) I shall be happy to see them ; and am, dear doctor, 
yours," &c. 

During the summer of 1779, Spain engaged in the war with 
Great Britain on the side of France, but though she received a min- 
ister from the United States, no definitive treaty was entered into 
between the two countries for some time. This delay was occa- 
sioned by the grasping policy of Spain, and some difficulties which 
arose in relation to the western boundary of the United States, and 
the free navigation of the Mississippi River, to its mouth. Not- 
withstanding this, substantial assistance was expected from her, 
in the obstacles and hindrances which she was able to lay in the 
way of Great Britain. 

While the head-quarters of the army was at West Point, Wash- 
ington was visited by Monsieur Gerard, the French minister to the 
United States, who informed him of the approach of a large French 
fleet, under the command of the Count d'Estaing. Congress hav- 
ing delegated to the commander-in-chief the power of arranging 
the manner in which the allies should co-operate with each other, 
various plans were agreed upon between him and Monsieur Ge- 
rard, which, however, the repulse of the fleet before Savannah, and 
its subsequent withdrawal, prevented from being carried into exe- 
cution. While the French minister was at West Point, he wrote a 
letter to the Count of Vergennes, from which the following extract 
is taken, as showing thef opinion which his visit led him to form 
of the commander-in-chief of the American armies. He says : 



368 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

« I have had many conversations with General Washington, 
some of which have continued for three hours. It is impossible 
for me briefly to communicate the fund of intelligence which I 
have derived from him ; but I shall do it in my letters, as occa- 
sions shall present themselves. I will now say only, that I have 
formed as high an opinion of the powers of his mind, his modera- 
tion, his patriotism and his virtues, as I had before from common 
report conceived of his military talents, and of the incalculable ser- 
vices he has rendered to his country." 

The approach of D'Estaing alarmed Sir Henry Clinton for the 
safety of his garrison at Rhode Island. Apprehensive that he 
would come towards the north, and, with a strong preponderance 
of naval force, attack his troops at Newport, or, uniting with 
Washington, outnumber him and attack New York, he ordered 
the immediate evacuation of Rhode Island, and the concentration 
of the British forces at New York. Accordingly, the troops which 
for three years had occupied the former place, arrived at New 
York on the 27th of October. Clinton now meditated a southern 
expedition, and was actively engaged in completing some strong 
works at New York and Brooklyn, which might be defended by a 
few, while he, with the main army, should seek a more glorious 
scene of action than could be hoped for in the presence of Wash- 
ington. 

Washington, meanwhile, devoted the time which a comparative 
relaxation from active service in the field afforded him, to an ob- 
ject, the prosecution of which had been but little encouraged by 
past success. This was, to convince the Congress of the impolicy 
and danger of their present system, or rather want of system in 
the administration of their military affairs. It is really astonishing 
that the experience of such repeated evils as flowed from the exist- 
ing arrangements, had not induced them long before to listen to 
the advice of their commander-in-chief. But at this period the 
evils of short enlistments were as heavy and embarrassing as they 
were before Washington exposed them, and prayed for their re- 
moval, in almost every communication, both public and private. 
In November of this year, he presented a minute report to Con- 
gress of the state of the army, by which it appeared that his whole 
force, the names which Appeared on his muster-rolls, (which, as is 
universally the case, materially exceeded the real strength of his 
army,) was twenty-seven thousand and ntnety-nine. This number 
included all sorts of troops, non-commissioned officers and pri- 
vates, and drummers and fifers. That of this number about fifteen 



OPERATIONS IN GEORGIA. 369 

thousand were stated to be engaged for the war, while of the 
remainder, it appeared that between that time and the last of the 
following June, the time of service of ten thousand one hundred 
and fifty-eight would expire. To supply this deficiency he sub- 
mitted a plan, founded upon the principle of temporary enlist- 
ment, which he had so long unsuccessfully laboured to supersede. 
It contained, as a leading provision, that each state be annually 
informed by Congress of the real deficiency of its troops, in such 
time that the men drafted might join the army on the first of 
January ; and that, on or before the first of October, annually, a 
return similar to that which he then presented should be trans- 
mitted to Congress, to enable them to make their demands with 
precision. 

Notwithstanding the manifest expediency of following these sug- 
gestions, they were never carried into effect ; the number of inde- 
pendent authorities to be consulted, the want of a supreme execu- 
tive, and of the power of Congress to raise the troops — these and 
similar defects paralyzed every effort of the commander-in-chief, 
and the result clearly demonstrated that whatever advantages the 
new confederation had conferred on the states, it was badly adapted 
for the despatch of business. 

On the 1st of December, 1779, the American army retired into 
winter quarters. They were divided between West Point and 
Morristown, to which latter place Washington removed his head 
quarters. Here the army again suffered the extreme privations 
consequent upon wintering such a large body of men within nar- 
row limits. 

Towards the end of December, General Clinton having securely 
garrisoned New York, and received reinforcements from Europe, 
embarked about seven thousand men on board of the fleet now 
under the command of Admiral Arbuthnot, and sailed for South 
Carolina. 

More important military operations took place in the southern 
states, which had hitherto escaped the scourge of war. Colonel 
Campbell, who had been detached from New York against Georgia, 
in the latter part of 1778, arrived at Savannah, about the end of 
December, and summoned the garrison to surrender. The Americans 
were commanded by General Howe, who, suffering the enemy to 
approach him in the reaj, was attacked on all sides at once, and 
completely routed, wih the loss of five hundred men who became 
the prisoners of the British. Howe retreated into South Carolina, 
leaving all lower Georgia in the hands of the enemy. Soon after, 
47 



370 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

General Prevost entered from Florida, reduced Sunbury, and taking 
upon himself the chief command, despatched Campbell against 
Augusta, the only remaining American post in the state. The fall 
of Augusta gave the British complete possession of Georgia. 

Congress, in the mean time, had passed a resolution recalling 
General Howe, and General Lincoln was appointed to succeed 
him. He only arrived in South Carolina in time to cover that 
state against the advance of the victorious army under General 
Prevost. Soon after his arrival, a company of seven hundred Tory 
refugees, who had been compelled by the severities of their coun- 
trymen to take refuge among the Indians, attempted to rejoin the 
king's forces. They were met and attacked by a small body of 
militia under Colonel Pickens, their commander was killed, and 
upwards of three hundred of them were taken prisoners. 

This success encouraged General Lincoln, who was daily re- 
ceiving reinforcements, to send a detachment of fourteen hundred 
men under General Ashe across the Savannah river, to take post at 
its junction with Briar Creek, in the hope of cutting off the communi- 
cation of the English at Augusta with the main army. On receiving 
information of this movement. General Prevost detached a party 
under the command of his brother, who, making a circuit of fifty 
miles, crossed Briar Creek, fifteen miles above its mouth, and com- 
ing unexpectedly on the rear of General Ashe's party, totally routed 
them ; the regular troops, after a desperate resistance, being all 
either killed or taken. 

Notwithstanding this disaster, Lincoln again reinforced, deter- 
mined to proceed with his main body against Augusta. As he 
crossed the river above, Prevost crossed below, determined to recall 
him from Augusta by threatening Charleston. Litending only a 
feint, he proceeded very slowly at first, until he saw that his move- 
ment had not the desired effect upon Lincoln, and he heard of the 
defenceless state of the capital of South Carolina, when his feint 
was changed to a real invasion, and he advanced with celerity, 
driving Moultrie with the militia before him into the town. The 
alarm had been given as soon as he crossed the Savannah, and such 
active preparations had been made, that when he had crossed the 
Ashley river, advanced just beyond cannon shot from the walls, 
and summoned the governor to surrender, he did not venture an 
attack, but retired during the night to a safe distance, and finally, 
on the approach of the victorious Lincoln, took refuge on the islands 
on the coast, from and to which the British fleet formed an easy mode 
of conveyance. From these islar^s he began to transport his men 



DEFENCE OF SAVANNAH. 371 

to Georgia, about the middle of June ; but before he had entirely 
completed their removal, his post at Stono Ferry was attacked by 
General Lincoln, who, after a warm engagement of an hour in 
length, apprehensive of the arrival of a reinforcement to the British 
from St. John island, drew off his men, and retired in good order, 
carrying his wounded along with him. The British loss in killed 
and wounded was about one hundred and thirty ; that of the Ame- 
ricans, one hundred and ninety. During the greater part of the 
engagement the British were covered by their works, which accounts 
for their smaller number killed and wounded. The midsummer 
heat causing a suspension of military operations, the British retired 
by their shipping to Georgia. 

The Count d'Estaing, then in the West Indies, being strongly 
importuned by Governor Rutledge and General Lincoln to repair to 
Savannah and aid in driving the British from Georgia, arrived on 
the coast in the month of September, and surprised and captured 
a fifty gun ship, and some other British vessels. 

General Lincoln, with about a thousand men, marched to Zubly's 
Ferry on the Savannah, and took up a strong position on the heights 
of Ebenezer, about twenty-three miles from the city. On the 16th, 
D'Estaing landed three thousand men, and summoned the place to 
surrender. General Prevost, on the first appearance of the French 
fleet on the coast, had ordered all the British detachments and gar- 
risons in Georgia to concentrate in Savannah, and had commenced, 
and still continued actively employed in strengthening the defences 
of the town. At the time of the summons to surrender, the works 
were still incomplete, and a strong detachment which had been in 
garrison at Beaufort had not yet arrived. Such being the state of 
affairs, it was of the utmost consequence to the British general to 
gain time, and he accordingly requested a suspension of hostilities 
for twenty-four hours, to consider the subject of capitulation. Dur- 
ing this critical interval, the expected detachment under Colonel 
Maitland arrived from Beaufort, and taking some by-road unknown 
to the besiegers, succeeded in entering the town. About the same 
time. General Lincoln, reinforced by the garrison of Augusta and 
Pulaski's legion, arrived before the town and formed a junction 
with the French. 

Encouraged by the arrival of Maitland, Prevost, at the expiration 
of the twenty-four hours, informed D'Estaing that he had concluded 
to defend the place to the last extremity. The allies deemed it 
imprudent to attempt the works by storm, and were obliged to wait 
a few days until the heavy ordnance and stores could be brought 



372 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

from the fleet. On the 23d of September, ground was broken in 
due form, and on the 1st of October, by regular approaches, they 
had advanced within three hundred yards of the walls ; but the 
defence was prosecuted with such vigour and skill by the British 
engineer. Major MoncrieflT, that it was supposed a long time would 
still intervene before the garrison could be compelled to surrender, 
D'Estaing, then strongly urged by his officers, refused any longer 
to adventure his fleet on the coast, as the tempestuous period was 
fast approaching, and, in the mean time, while he was spending 
time before Savannah, the French West Indies were left undefended 
to the mercy of the British. By continuing their regular approaches 
for a few days more, the besiegers would probably have made 
ihemselves masters of the place, and expelled or captured the only 
English army then in the Southern States ; but these few days 
D'Estaing could not spare. No alternative seemed to remain but to 
raise the siege or storm the place. General Lincoln, rather than give 
up the expedition, after having advanced so far, in opposition to his 
own judgment, accepted the offer of the French forces to make the 
attempt before their departure. For that purpose, on the morning 
of the 9th of October, a heavy cannonade and bombardment opened 
on the town. A hollow way being discovered by which the troops 
could advance within fifty yards of the wall, three thousand French 
and fifteen hundred Americans were led to the attack in three 
columns by D'Estaing and Lincoln. The party pushed on with 
great vigour ; they had even crossed the ditch, mounted the para- 
pet, and planted their standards on the wall. Being here, how- 
ever, exposed to a tremendous fire from works well-constructed 
and completely manned, they were checked. Count Pulaski, at 
the head of two hundred horsemen, galloped between the batteries 
towards the town, with the intention of charging the garrison in 
the rear ; but he fell, mortally wounded, and his squadron was 
broken. The vigour of the assailants began to abate ; and, after a 
desperate conflict of fifty minutes, they were driven from the works, 
and sounded a retreat. 

The loss of the French in this unsuccessful attack was seven 
hundred; that of the Americans, two hundred and thirty-four 
killed and wounded. The British, being mostly under cover, 
lost only fifty-five. D'Estaing immediately embarked and sailed 
ibr the West Indies, and the campaign was ended, to the disad- 
vantage of the Americans, though the British had accomplished 
but little in its prosecution, and they were now confined within the 
wall of one town, Savannah. 



CLINTON'S EXPEDITION TO CHARLESTON. 373 




CHAPTER XVIII. 




©fflmjpajgn of Wi>®o 

EANTIME the commander-in-chief of the Bri- 
tish forces in America, Sir Henry Clinton, had 
determined to transfer the principal seat of war 
to the Southern States. Leaving, therefore, the 
command of the royal army in New York to 
General Knyphausen, he sailed from that city 
on the 26th of December, 1777, under convoy 
of Admiral Arbuthnot, but did not arrive at Savannah till the end of 
January. The passage was tempestuous, some of the transports 
and victuallers were lost, others shattered, and a few taken by the 
American cruisers. Most of the cavalry and draught-horses per- 
ished. One of the transports, which had been separated from the 
fleet, was captured by the Americans and brought into Charleston 
on the 23d of January, and the prisoners gave the first certain 
notice of the destination of the exj^dition. 

21 



374 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

On the 11th of February, 1780, Clinton landed on John's Island, 
thirty miles from Charleston ; but so cautious were his approaches 
that it was not till the 29th of March, that he broke ground at the 
distance of eight hundred yards from the American works, and 
commenced a formal siege. 

The determination of the state authorities to defend the town 
was ill-advised. General Lincoln, who commanded the garrison, 
was not provided with sufficient means of defence ; but the extreme 
reluctance of the citizens to abandon their capital to the enemy 
prevented him from availing himself of the ample opportunity 
afforded for evacuating it ; and when, on the 9th of April, Clinton, 
having completed his first parallel, and mounted his guns in bat- 
tery, sent him a summons to surrender, he answered : "Sixty days 
have passed since it has been known that your intentions against 
this town were hostile, in which time was afforded to abandon it ; 
but duty and inclination point the propriety of supporting it to the 
last extremity." 

The siege was now prosecuted with vigour, and on the 12th of 
May, General Lincoln found himself under the necessity of capitu- 
lating. The effective strength of the garrison had been only be- 
tween two and three thousand men, while the besieging army con- 
sisted of nine thousand of the best of the British troops. 

General Lincoln was loaded with undeserved blame by many of 
his countrymen ; for he conducted the defence as became a brave 
and intelligent officer. The error lay in attempting to defend the 
town ; but, in the circumstances in which General Lincoln was 
placed, he was almost unavoidably drawn into that course. It was 
the desire of the state that the capital should be defended ; and 
Congress, as well as North and South Carolina, had encouraged 
him to expect that his army would be increased to nine thousand 
men ; a force which might have successfully resisted all the efforts 
of the royal army. But neither Congress nor the Carolinas were 
able to fulfil the promises they had made ; for the militia were 
extremely backward to take the field, and the expected number of 
continentals could not be furnished. General Lincoln was, there- 
fore, left to defend the place with only about one-third of the force he 
had been encouraged to expect. At any time before the middle 
of April, he might have evacuated the town ; but the civil authority 
then opposed his retreat, which soon afterwards became difficult, 
and ultimately impracticable. 

The fall of Charleston was a matter of much exultation to the 
British, and spread a deep glqpm over the aspect of American 



TARLETON'S QUARTER. 375 

affairs. The southern army was lost ; and, although small, it could 
not soon be replaced. In the southern parts of the Union there had 
always been a considerable number of persons friendly to the claims 
of Britain. The success of her arms drew over to the British cause 
all those who are ever ready to take part with the strongest, and 
discouraged and intimidated the friends of American independence. 

After gaining possession of Charleston, General Chnton sent out 
detachments to complete the conquest of the state. One of these, 
under Lord Cornwallis, proceeded towards the frontiers of North 
Carolina. Soon after passing the Santee, Cornwallis, learning that 
Colonel Buford was lying, with four hundred men in perfect secu- 
rity near the border of North Carolina, detached Colonel Tarleton, 
with his cavalry, named the Legion, to surprise him. Li this Tarle- 
ton was successful. Attacked by seven hundred men, Buford's 
party threw down their arms and made no resistance ; but an indis- 
criminate slaughter ensued. Many begged for quarter, but no 
quarter was given. TarletorCs quarter, after this, became prover- 
bial, and added much to the sanguinary spirit in which the subse- 
quent operations in the south were conducted. 

On the surrender of Charleston, the garrison had been permitted 
to return to their homes on parole. Clinton, having subsequently 
convinced himself that the state was completely restored to its 
allegiance, issued a proclamation, on the 3d of June, calling upon 
the people to take up arms in the royal cause. The people desired 
peace ; but on finding that they must fight on one side or the other, 
they preferred the banners of their country, and thought they had 
as good a right to violate the allegiance and parole which Clinton 
had imposed upon them, as he had to change their state from that 
of prisoners to that of British subjects, without their consent. The 
proclamation, therefore, instead of raising up friends to the British 
cause, greatly increased the number of its open enemies. 

On the 5th of June, Clinton sailed from Charleston for New York, 
leaving Lord Cornwallis in command of the southern army. In 
order to connect his operations in the south with those which led 
to his surrender to the allied army under Washington and Rocham- 
beau, we shall hereafter give a rapid sketch of his movements, and 
those of Generals Gates and Greene in the Carohnas. 

While the transactions just related were going on in the Southern 
States, some interesting events happened in the more northern parts 
of the Union, where General Washington was beset by pressing and 
formidable difficulties. The finances of Congress were in a most 
depressed condition, and the urgeni wants of the army were but ill 



376 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

supplied. The evils of short enlistment, though distinctly under- 
stood and strongly felt, could not be remedied ; and the places of 
those men who were leaving the army on the expiration of their 
stipulated term of service, could not easily be filled up. Besides, 
the troops were in danger of perishing by cold and famine. During 
the preceding year, General Green and Colonel Wadsworth had 
been at the head of the quarter-master and commissary departments ; 
and notwithstanding their utmost exertions, the wants of the army 
had been ill-suppUed. After being put into winter quarters, it was 
in great danger of being dissolved by want of provisions. The 
colonial paper money was in a state of great and increasing depre- 
ciation; and, in order to check the alarming evil, Congress resolved 
to diminish the circulation and keep up the value of their paper 
currency, by withholding the necessary supplies from the public 
agents. This imprudent resolution threatened the ruin of the army. 
Nobody was willing to make contracts with the public, and some of 
those entered into were not fulfilled. 

Congress, jealous of the public agents, because ignorant of what 
was really necessary, repeatedly changed the form of its engage- 
ments with them ; and at length, by its fluctuating policy, real wants, 
and imprudent parsimony, brought matters to such extremities that 
General Washington was compelled to require several counties of 
the state of Jersey to furnish his army with certain quantities of 
provisions, within six days, in order to prevent them from being 
taken by force. Although the provinces were much exhausted, yet 
the people instantly complied with the requisition, and furnished a 
temporary supply to the army. 

Soon afier Sir Henry Clinton sailed on his expedition against 
Charleston, towards the end of the year 1779, a frost of unexam- 
pled severity began. The Hudson, East River, and all the waters 
round New York were so completely frozen that an army with its 
artillery and wagons might have crossed them in all directions 
with perfect safety. The city was fortified by the British ; but, on 
account of its insular position, several parts being considered of 
difficult access, were left undefended. By the strength of the ice, 
however, every point became exposed ; and in that unforeseen emer- 
gency. General Knyphausen, who commanded in the city with a 
garrison of ten thousand men, took every prudent precaution for his 
own defence, and fortified every vulnerable part ; but the inefficiency 
of the American army was his best security. General Washington 
easily perceived the advantages which the extraordinary frost gave 
him ; but, from the destitute state of his army, he was unable to 



THE WINTER OF 1779. 377 

avail himself of them, and was obliged to see an opportunity 
pass away which was probably never to return. The army 
under his immediate command was inferior in number to the 
garrison of New York ; it was also ill clad, scantily supplied 
with provisions, and in no condition to undertake offensive ope- 
rations. 

The British had a post in Staten Island ; and, as the ice opened 
a free communication between the island and the Jersey coast. 
General Washington, notwithstanding the enfeebled condition of 
his army, resolved to attack the garrison, and appointed Lord Stir- 
ling to conduct the enterprise. The night of the 14th of January 
was chosen for the attempt ; but though the Americans used every 
precaution, yet the officer commanding on Staten Island discovered 
their intention, and took effectual measures to defeat it. The at- 
tack was repulsed, though but little loss was sustained on either 
side. 

The extreme cold occasioned much suffering in New York, by 
want of provisions and fuel ; for, as the communication by water 
was entirely stopped, the usual supplies were cut off. The demand 
for fuel, in particular, was so pressing, that it was found expedient 
to break up some old transports, and to pull down some uninha- 
bited wooden houses, for the purpose of procuring that necessary 
article. As the British paid in ready money for provisions or fire- 
wood carried within the lines, many of the country people, tempted 
by the precious metals, so rare among them, tried to supply the 
garrison. The endeavour of the British to encourage and protect 
this intercourse, and the exertions of the Americans to prevent it, 
brought on a sort of partisan warfare, in which the former most 
frequently had the advantage. In one of the most important of 
those encounters, a captain and fourteen men of a Massachusetts 
regiment were killed on the spot, seventeen were wounded, and 
ninety, with Colonel Thompson who commanded the party, were 
made prisoners. 

Congress found itself placed in very difficult circumstances. It 
always contained a number of men of talents, and manifested no 
small share of vigour and activity. Many of the members were 
skilful in the management of their private affairs, and having been 
successful in the world, thought themselves competent to direct 
the most important national concerns, although unacquainted with 
the principles of finance, legislation, or war. Animated by that 
bUnd presumption which often characterizes popular assemblies, 
they frequently entered into resolutions which discovered little 
48 2 i2 



378 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

practical wisdom. In pecuniary matters they were dilatory, and 
never anticipated trying emergencies, or made provision for pro- 
bable events, till they w^ere overtaken by some urgent necessity. 
Hence they were frequently deliberating about levying troops and 
supplying the army, when the troops ought to have been in the 
field and equipped for active service. This often placed the 
commander-in-chief in the most trying and perilous circum- 
stances. 

Congress had solemnly resolved not to exceed two hundred mil- 
lions of dollars in continental bills of credit. In November, 1779, 
the whole of that sum was issued, and expended also. The de- 
mand on the states, to replenish the treasury by taxes, had not been 
fully complied with, and, even although it had been completely 
answered, it would not have furnished a sum adequate to the ex- 
penses of the government. Instead of maturely considering and 
digesting a plan, adhering to it, and improving it by experience, 
Congress often changed its measures ; and, even in the midst of 
those distresses which had brought the army to the verge of disso- 
lution, was busy in devising new and untried expedients for sup- 
porting it. As the treasury was empty, and money could not be 
raised, Congress, on the 25th of February, resolved to call on the 
several states for their proportion of provisions, spirits, and forage, 
for the maintenance of the army during the ensuing campaign ; 
but specified no time within which these were to be collected ; 
and consequently the states were in no haste in the matter. In 
order to facilitate compliance with this requisition, it was further 
resolved, that any state which should have taken the necessary 
means for furnishing its quota, and given notice thereof to Con- 
gress, should be authorized to prohibit any continental quarter- 
master or commissary from purchasing within its limits. Every 
man who had a practical knowledge of the subject easily perceived 
the defective nature and dangerous tendency of this arrangement. 
It was an attempt to carry on the war rather by separate provincial 
efforts, than by a combination of national strength ; and if the army 
received from any state where it was acting the appointed quan- 
tity of necessaries, it had no right, though starving, to purchase 
what it stood in need of. Besides, the carriage of provisions from 
distant parts was troublesome, expensive, and sometimes imprac- 
ticable. 

The troops were ill-clothed, their pay in arrear, and that of 
the officers, owing to the great depreciation of the paper cur- 
rency, was wholly unequal to their decent maintenance. These 



MUTINY IN THE AMERICAN ARMY. 379 

multiplied privations and sufferings soured the temper of the 
men ; and it required all the influence of their revered com- 
mander to prevent many of the officers from resigning their com- 
missions. The long condition of want and hardship produced 
relaxation of discipline, which at length manifested itself in open 
mutiny. 

On the 25th of May, two regiments belonging to Connecticut, 
whose pay was five months in arrears, paraded under arms, with 
the avowed intention of returning home, or of obtaining subsist- 
ence at the point of the bayonet. The rest of the soldiers, though 
they did not join in the mutiny, showed little disposition to repress 
it. At length the two regiments were brought back to their duty ; 
but much murmuring and many complaints were heard. While 
the army was in such want, the inhabitants of Jersey, where most 
of the troops were stationed, were unavoidably harassed by fre- 
quent requisitions, which excited considerable discontent. 

Reports of the mutinous state of the American army, and of the 
dissatisfaction of the people of Jersey, probably much exaggerated, 
were carried to General Knyphausen ; who, believing the Ameri- 
can soldiers ready to desert their standard, and the inhabitants of 
Jersey willing to abandon the union, on the 6th of June, passed 
from Staten Island to Elizabethtown, in Jersey, with three thousand 
men. That movement was intended to encourage the mutinous dis- 
position of the American troops, and to fan the flame of discontent 
among the inhabitants of the province. Early next morning, he 
marched into the country towards Springfield by the way of Con- 
necticut Farms, a flourishing plantation, so named because the cul- 
tivators had' come from Connecticut. But even before reaching 
that place, which is five or six miles from Elizabethtown, the 
British perceived that the reports they had received concerning the 
Americans were incorrect ; for, on the first alarm, the militia 
assembled with great alacrity, and, aided by some small parties 
of regulars, annoyed the British by an irregular but galling fire of 
musketry, wherever the nature of the ground presented a favour- 
able opportunity ; and although those parties were nowhere strong 
enough to make a stand, yet they gave plain indications of the 
temper and resolution which were to be encountered in advancing 
into the country. 

At Connecticut Farms the British detachment halted. The settlers 
were known to be zealous in the American cause, and therefore 
with an unworthy spirit of revenge, the British, among whom was 
General Tryon, laid the flourishing village, with its church and the 



380 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

minister's house, in ashes. Here occurred one of those affecting 
incidents which, being somewhat out of the ordinary course of the 
miseries of war, made a deep impression on the pubUc mind. Mr. 
Caldwell, minister of the place, had withdrawn towards Springfield, 
but had left his wife and family behind, believing them to be in no 
danger. The British advanced to the industrious and peaceful 
village. Mrs. Caldwell, trusting to her sex for safety, and unsus- 
picious of harm, was sitting in her house with her children around 
her, when a soldier came up, levelled his musket at the window, 
and shot her dead on the spot in the midst of her terrified infants. 
On the intercession of a friend, the dead body was permitted to be 
removed, before the house was set on fire. This atrocious deed 
excited such general horror and detestation that the British thought 
proper to disavow it, and to impute the death of Mrs. Caldwell to 
a random shot from the retreating militia, though the militia did 
not fire a musket in the village. The wanton murder of the lady 
might be the unauthorized act of a savage individual ; but can the 
burning of the house after the death be accounted for in the same 
way ? Knyphausen was a veteran officer, and cannot be supposed 
capable of entering into local animosities, or of countenancing such 
brutality'; but Tryon was present, and his conduct on other occa- 
sions was not unblemished. 

After destroying the Connecticut Farms, Knyphausen advanced 
towards Springfield, where the Jersey brigade under General Max- 
well, and a large body of militia, had taken an advantageous posi- 
tion, and seemed resolved to defend it. General Knyphausen, 
however, had met with a reception so different from what he ex- 
pected, that without making any attempt on the American post, he 
withdrew during the night to Elizabethtown. 

On being informed of the invasion of New Jersey, General Wash- 
ington put his army in motion, early on the morning of the day in 
which Knyphausen marched from Elizabethtown, and proceeded 
to the Short Hills, behind Springfield, while the British were in the 
vicinity of that place. Feeble as his army was, he made the ne- 
cessary dispositions for fighting ; but the unexpected retreat of 
Knyphausen rendered a battle unnecessary. The British were fol- 
lowed by an American detachment, which attacked their rear- 
guard in the morning, but were repulsed. Instead of returning to 
New York, General Knyphausen lingered in the vicinity of Eliza- 
bethtown and in Staten Island ; and General Washington, too 
v.'eak to hazard an engagement, except on advantageous ground, 
remained on the hills near Springfield, to watch the movements of 



BURNING OF SPRINGFIELD. 381 

the British army. At that time, the army under the immediate 
orders of General Washington did not exceed four thousand effec- 
tive men. 

On the I8th of June, Sir Henry CHnton returned from South 
Carolina, with about four thousand men ; and, after receiving this 
reinforcement, the British force in 'New York and its dependencies 
amounted to twelve thousand effective and regular troops, most of 
whom could be brought into the field for any particular service ; 
as besides them, the British commander had about four thousand 
militia and refugees for garrison duty. The British army directed 
on any one point would have been irresistible ; therefore the Ame- 
ricans could only follow a wary policy, occupying strong ground, 
presenting a bold front, and concealing their weakness as far as 
possible. 

Sir Henry Clinton embarked troops, and awakened the apprehen- 
sions of General Washington lest he should sail up the Hudson and 
attack the posts in the highlands. Those posts had always been 
objects of much solicitude with the American commander, and he 
was extremely jealous of any attack upon them. In order to be in 
readiness to resist any such attack, he left General Greene at Spring- 
field, with seven hundred continentals, the Jersey militia, and some 
cavalry, and proceeded towards Pompton with the main body of 
the army. 

Sir Henry Clinton, after having perplexed the Americans by his 
movements, early on the morning of the 23d of June, rapidly 
advanced in full force from Elizabethtown towards Springfield. 
General Greene hastily assembled his scattered detachments, and 
apprized General Washington of the march of the royal army, who 
instantly returned to support Greene's division. The British 
marched in two columns ; one on the main road leading to Spring- 
field, the other on the Vauxhall road. General Greene had scarcely 
time to collect his troops at Springfield, and make the necessary 
dispositions, when the royal army appeared before the town, and 
a cannonade immediately began. A fordable rivulet, with bridges 
corresponding to the different roads, runs in front of this place. 
Greene had stationed parties to guard the bridges ; and they 
obstinately disputed the passage ; but after a smart conflict they 
were overpowered and compelled to retreat. Greene then fell back 
and took post on a range of hills, where he expected to be again 
attacked. But the British, instead of attempting to pursue their 
advantages, contented themselves with setting fire to the village, 
and laying the greater part of it in ashes. Discouraged by the 



382 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

obstinate resistance they had received, and ignorant of the detach- 
ment which opposed them, they immediately retreated to Eliza- 
bethtown, pursued with animosity by the miUtia, who were pro- 
voked at the burning of Springfield. They arrived at Elizabeth- 
town about sunset ; and, continuing their march to Elizabeth 
Point, began at midnight to pass over to Staten Island. Before six 
next morning they had entirely evacuated the Jerseys, and removed 
the bridge of boats which communicated with Staten Island. 

In the skirmish at Springfield the Americans had about twenty 
men killed, and sixty wounded. The British suffered a corre- 
sponding loss. Sir Henry Clinton's object in this expedition seems 
to have been to destroy the i^Lmerican magazines in that part of the 
country. But the obstinate resistance which he met with at Spring- 
field deterred him from advancing into a district abounding in 
difficult passes, where every strong position would be vigorously 
defended. He seems also to have been checked by the apprehen- 
sion of a fleet and army from France. 

General Washington was informed of Sir Henry Clinton's march 
soon after the British left Elizabethtown ; but, though he hastily 
returned, the skirmish at Springfield was over before he reached 
that place. 

After Sir Henry Clinton left the Jerseys, General Washington 
planned an enterprise against a British post at Bergen Point, on 
the Hudson, opposite New York, garrisoned by seventy loyalists. 
It was intended to reduce the post, and also to carry off a number 
of cattle on Bergen Neck, from which the garrison of New York 
received occasional supplies of fresh provisions. General Wayne 
was appointed to conduct the enterprise. With a respectable force 
he marched against the post, which consisted of a block-house 
covered by an abattis and palisade. General Wayne pointed his 
artillery against the block-house, but his field-pieces made no im- 
pression on the logs. Galled by the fire from the loop-holes, some 
of his men rushed impetuously through the abattis, and attempted 
to storm the block-house, but they were repulsed with considerable 
loss. Though, however, the Americans failed in their attempt 
against the post, they succeeded in driving off most of the cattle. 

On the commencement of hostilities in Europe, the Marquis de 
Lafayette, who had so early and so zealously embarked in the 
cause of America, had returned home, as we have already seen, in 
order to offer his services to his king, still, however, retaining his 
rank in the army of Congress. His ardour in behalf of the Ame- 
ricans remained unabated, and he exerted all his influence with 



RETURN OF LAFAYETTE. 383 

the court of Versailles to gain its effectual support to the United 
States : his efforts were successful, and the king of France resolved 
vigorously to assist the Americans both by sea and land. Having 
gained this important point, and perceiving that there was no need 
for his military services in Europe, he obtained leave from his 
sovereign to return to America and join his former companions 
in arms. He landed at Boston towards the end of April ; and, in 
his way to Congress, called at the head-quarters of General Wash- 
ington, and informed him of the powerful succour which might 
soon be expected from France. He met with a most cordial recep- 
tion both from Congress and the commander-in-chief, on account 
of his high rank, tried friendship, and distinguished services. 

The assistance expected from their powerful ally was very en- 
couraging to the Americans, but called for corresponding exertions 
on their part. The commander-in-chief found himself in the most 
perplexing circumstances : his army was feeble, and he could form 
no plan for the campaign till he knew what forces were to be put 
under his orders. His troops, both officers and privates, were ill 
clothed, and needed to be decently appareled before they could 
be led into the field to co-operate with soldiers in respectable 
uniforms ; for his half-naked battalions would only have been ob- 
jects of contempt and derision to their belter dressed allies. In 
order to supply these defects, and to get his army in a due state 
of preparation before the arrival of the European auxiliaries, Gene- 
ral Washington made the most pressing applications to Congress, 
and to the several state legislatures. Congress resolved and 
recommended ; but the states were dilatory, and their tardy pro- 
ceedings ill accorded with the exigencies of the case, or with the 
expectations of those who best understood the affairs of the Union. 
Even on the 4th of July, the commander-in-chief had the mortifica- 
tion to find that few new levies had arrived in camp, and some of 
the states had not even taken the trouble to inform him of the 
number of men they intended to furnish. 

In the month of June, the state of Massachusetts had resolved to 
send a reinforcement, but no part of it had yet arrived. About the 
same time a voluntary subscription was entered into in Philadel- 
phia, for the purpose of providing bounties to recruits to fill up the 
Pennsylvania line ; and the president or vice-president in council 
was empowered, if circumstances required it, to put the state under 
martial law. A bank also was established for the purpose of sup- 
plying the army with provisions ; and a number of gentlemen 
engaged to support it to the amount of one hundred and eighty- 



384 



LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 




OLD BANK OF THE UNITED STAT: 



nine thousand pounds sterling, according to the sums affixed to 
their several names. The ladies of Philadelphia were ambitious 
of sharing the honours of patriotism with their fathers, husbands, 
and brothers ; a number of them visited every house in the city, in 
order to collect a sum of money to be presented to the army, in 
testimony of their esteem and approbation. The money was ex- 
pended on cloth for shirts, which the ladies made. 

In the midst of this bustle and preparation, the expected succours 
from France, consisting of a fleet of eight ships of the line, with 
frigates and other vessels under the Ciievalier de Ternay, having 
about six thousand troops on board, under General the Count of 
Rochambeau, arrived at Rhode Island on the evening of the lOth 
of July ; and, in a few days afterwards, Lafayette arrived at New- 
port from the American head-quarters, to confer with his coun- 
trymen. 

At the time of the arrival of the French in Rhode Island, Admiral 
Arbuthnot had only four sail of the line at New York ; but, in a 
few days, Admiral Graves arrived from England with six sail of 
the line, which gave the British a decided superiority to the hostile 
squadrons, and, therefore. Sir Henry Clinton without delay pre- 
pared for active operations. He embarked about eight thousand 
men, and sailed with the fleet to Huntington bay in Long Island, 
with the intention of proceeding against the French at Newport. 



TREACHERY OF GENERAL ARNOLD 385 

The militia of Massachusetts and Connecticut were ordered to join 
their new allies in Rhode Island, and the combined army there 
thought itself able to give the British a good reception. 

As the garrison of New York was weakened by the sailing of the 
armament under the British commander-in-chief; General Wash- 
ington, having received considerable reinforcements, suddenly 
crossed the North River, and advanced towards New York ; that 
movement brought Sir Henry Clinton back to defend the place ; 
and, consequently, Washington proceeded no farther in his medi- 
tated enterprise.* 

The want of money and of all necessaries still continued in the 
American camp ; and the discontent of the troops gradually in- 
creasing, was matured into a dangerous spirit of insubordination. 
The men, indeed, bore incredible hardships and privations with 
unexampled fortitude and patience ; but the army was in a state 
of constant fluctuation ; it was composed, in a great measure, of 
militia, harassed by perpetual service, and obliged to neglect the 
cultivation of their farms and their private interests in order to 
obey the calls of pubUc duty, and of soldiers on short enlistments, 
who never acquired the military spirit and habits. 

In consequence of an appointment, General Washington and 
suite set out to a conference with Count Rochambeau and Admiral 
Ternay, and, on the 21st of September, met them at Hartford, in 
Connecticut, where they spent a few days together, and conversed 
about a plan for the next campaign. 

The season w^as now far advanced: no action of importance 
had been achieved on the Hudson by either party, arid the cam- 
paign in that quarter seemed about to close without any thing 
remarkable, when both armies were suddenly roused, and the pub- 
lic mind both in Europe and America much agitated by one of 
those affecting events which deepen the gloom and give a melan- 
choly and tender interest even to the calamities of war — the exe- 
cution of Major Andre.* 

In the early part of the month of August, when General Wash- 
ington meditated an attack on New York, he proposed that General 
Arnold should have a command in the enterprise. This Arnold 
dechned ; alleging that his lameness disqualified him for camp 
duty. General Washington knew him to be a selfish man ; but, 
having no suspicion of his infidelity to the American cause, for 
which he had professed so much zeal and made so many exertions, 
appointed him, at his own desire, to the command of West Point 

* Western World. 
49 2K 



386 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

and its dependencies, a most important post on the Hudson. Of 
the highland posts on that river, General Washington was extremely 
jealous, and exerted himself to prevent the British from establishing 
a communication between Canada and New York, by the Lakes 
Champlain and George, and the river Hudson. West Point was 
considered a principal key of that communication ; and, by the 
appointment to the command of it, Arnold was put into a place of 
high trust and confidence. But that officer, impetuous and despe- 
rate, rather than cool and intrepid, and governed more by the vio- 
lence of his passions than the dictates of his understanding, had 
secretly determined to abandon and betray the American cause ; 
and entered into negotiations with the British commander-in-chief 
for that purpose. The surrender of West Point, he was well aware, 
would gratify his new friends ; and he wished to inflict a deadly 
wound on his old associates, whom he hated the more because he 
intended to betray them. Ambitious and selfish, fond of ostenta- 
tion and magnificence, his expenditure had exceeded his income ; 
and, in order to supply his extravagance, he had engaged in trade 
and privateering. His speculations proved unsuccessful ; his funds 
were exhausted, and his creditors became clamorous. About the 
month of July, 1779, he presented heavy accounts against the pub- 
lic ; but the commissioners rejected about one-half of his demands ; 
he appealed to Congress; but a committee of that body reported 
that the commissioners had allowed him more than he had any 
right to demand or expect. Irritated and inflamed by this treat- 
ment, embarrassed in his circumstances, and encumbered with an 
expensive family, he resolved to raise a fortune on the ruins of his 
character, and to commit the foulest treason in order to gratify at 
once his ambition and revenge. 

In the course of the year 1779, Major Andre, adjutant-general 
of the British army, a young officer of distinguished talents and 
acquirements, had entered into a correspondence with Mrs. Arnold, 
on pretence of supplying her with millinery goods ; that corre- 
spondence ripened into treason on the part of Arnold. After his 
nomination to the command of West Point, the Vulture sloop-of- 
war was stationed by Sir Henry Clinton, in the North River, at 
such a distance from the American works as to excite no suspicion, 
but near enough to facilitate the correspondence which was going 
on. Before that time, there had been a written correspondence 
through other channels between Arnold and Andre, under the 
assumed names of Gustavus and Anderson. In order to bring the 
negotiation to a speedy close, Arnold wished Clinton to send a con- 



CAPTURE OF MAJOR ANDRE. 387 

fidential person to hold a conference with him ; unhappily, the 
amiable and accomplished Andre was selected for the consumma- 
tion of a work in which he was already too much implicated. 

On the night of the 21st of September, a boat sent by Arnold 
carried Andre from the Vulture, and landed him on the bank of the 
river, where he met Arnold outside of the American posts. The 
day was about to dawn before the negotiation was finished ; and 
Andre was told that it was necessary he should remain concealed 
till next night ; for that purpose he was conducted within the 
American lines, contrary to his previous stipulation and intention, 
and without his knowledge. He spent the day with Arnold. Next 
night the boatmen refused to carry him back to the Vulture, because 
she had shifted her ground in order to be out of the reach of a 
cannon which had been mounted to annoy her ; and he was obliged 
to attempt an escape by land. He now changed his uniform, 
which he had hitherto worn under a surtout, for a common coat ; 
and, having procured a horse, was, under the name of John Ander- 
son, furnished with a passport by Arnold to go to the lines at White 
Plains, or lower if he thought proper, as he was on public business. 

Thus equipped, Andre set out alone, and proceeded on his jour- 
ney towards New York. He passed the American guards and 
posts on the road w-ithout suspicion ; but Arnold had a scouting 
party, chiefly militia, scouring the country between the outposts of 
the two armies. As Andre prosecuted his journey the next day, 
and flattered himself that all danger was past, a man suddenly 
sprung from a covert and seized his horse's bridle. Surprised by 
the unexpected onset, the major lost his presence of mind ; mistak- 
ing the man for a British partisan, instead of presenting his passport, 
he declared himself a British officer, and asked permission to pro- 
ceed ; but two other militia-men coming up at the moment, the 
party refused to let him go, though he offered them the most tempt- 
ing rewards. They conducted him to Colonel Jamieson, the offi- 
cer commanding the scouting party, before whom he appeared as 
John Anderson ; choosing rather to encounter every hazard, than, 
by a disclosure of his real character, to involve Arnold in jeopardy 
before he had a warning to provide for his safety. The names of 
the militia-men who captured Andre were John Paulding, David 
Williams, and Isaac Van Wart. 

Andre had been disconcerted, and his presence of mind had 
forsaken him on his sudden and unexpected seizure ; but, more 
alive to Arnold's danger than his own, he discovered his ingenuity in 
procuring Jamieson's permission to give that officer notice of his 



388 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

apprehension. Even before that time Jamieson had entertained 
suspicions of Arnold's fidelity ; and although those suspicions 
must have been now strengthened or confirmed, yet he permitted 
a note to be sent to Arnold, giving him notice of John Anderson's 
detention. 

Several papers were found in one of Major Andre's boots, all in 
Arnold's handwriting, which contained an exact account of the 
state of West Point and its dependencies, with remarks on the 
works, and estimate of the number of men ordinarily on duty in 
the place, and a copy of the state of matters which had been laid 
before a council of war by General Washington on the 6th of the 
month. All these papers Jamieson enclosed under cover to Gene- 
ral Washington, with a letter from the prisoner, in which he avowed 
himself to be Major John Andre, adjutant-general of the British 
army, related the manner of his apprehension, and endeavoured to 
vindicate himself from the imputation of being a spy. 

General Washington was then returning from his conference 
with the French commanders at Hartford ; and Jamieson's messen- 
ger missed him, by taking a different road from that in which he 
was travelling. 

Arnold received the notice of Anderson's detention some hours 
before Washington arrived at West Point ; and immediately con- 
sulted his safety, by hastening on board the Vulture sloop of war, 
which lay in the river some miles below Verplanck's Point. 

On opening the packet from Jamieson at West Point, General 
Washington discovered Arnold's treason, and took prompt and 
effectual measures for the security of the post, ordering two brigades 
from the nearest division of the army. 

After allowing time for the notice of his detention to reach 
Arnold, Major Andre laid aside all disguise, and avowed who he 
was. His behaviour was frank and ingenuous ; and he seemed 
anxious for nothing but the vindication of his character from the 
imputations which the circumstances of his apprehension appeared 
to cast upon him. 

General Washington appointed a board of officers, of which 
General Greene was president, and Lafayette, Steuben, and others, 
were members, to inquire into the case of Major Andre, and to 
report in what character he was to be considered, and what punish- 
ment he deserved. Even during the short time that Andre was in 
the power of the Americans, and notwithstanding the unhappy cir- 
cumstances in which he was placed, his behaviour and talents made 
a highly favourable impression on their minds ; and when brought 



EXECUTION OF MAJOR ANDRE. 389 

before the board, the members behaved towards hira with the 
utmost respect and delicacy, and told him not to answer any ques- 
tions that might embarrass his feelings. But in that crisis of his 
fate, Andre magnanimously disregarded every thing but his honour. 
He gave a candid recital of circumstances, concealing nothing that 
regarded himself; but making no disclosures to inculpate others. 
He acknowledged every thing that was reckoned essential to his 
condemnation ; and the board of general officers, to whom his case 
was referred, without calling any witnesses, considered merely that 
he had been within their lines in disguise, and reported that in 
their opinion Major Andre was a spy, and ought to suffer death. 
The sentence was ordered to be carried into execution on the day 
after it was declared. The apprehension of Major Andre excited 
a lively sensation in the British army, which felt a strong interest 
in his fate ; for he was dear to all his comptnions in arms, and 
especially to the commander-in-chief, who immediately, by a flag 
of truce, opened a correspondence with General Washington, and 
urged every consideration of justice, policy, and humanity in favour 
of Andre. Finding his letters ineffectual, he despatched General 
Robertson to confer with General Washington on the subject, or 
with any officer he might appoint. He was met by General Greene ; 
but no mitigation of the doom could be procured. On the day 
before his execution. Major Andre wrote an affecting letter to Ge- 
neral Washington, requesting to be put to death like a soldier, and 
not as a malefactor ; but the board of general officers, to whom 
every thing respecting him was referred, did not grant his request. 
The 2d of October closed the tragical scene ; on that day the major 
was led out and hanged, supporting his high character to the last 
moment. He suffered amidst the admirations and regrets even of 
the American officers ; while his death was deeply lamented by the 
British army. He was a young man of an amiable character, en- 
gaging manners, and fine talents and acquirements. Sir Henry 
Clinton made every effort to save him, but his character as a spy 
was distinctly proved ; and the circumstance of his being an officer 
of high rank, and a personal friend of Sir Henry Clinton, could not 
be regarded as any mitigation of his offence, much less a reason 
for absolving him from the penalty which a spy is never permitted 
to evade under any circumstances. 

Even Arnold had the effrontery to write to General W^ashington, 
on the occasion, attesting such facts as he believed favourable to 
Andre. But what reliance could be placed on the testimony of a 
man capable of such foul treason ? He also threatened the general, 

2 k2 



390 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

and reminded him that many of the inhabitants of South Carolina 
had rendered themselves liable to military execution. It was im- 
pudent in Arnold to write, and imprudent in Sir Henry Clinton to 
transmit his letter ; for it was the sure way to provoke Andre's 
fate ; even although there had been an inclination to spare him. 
Arnold endeavoured to vindicate his conduct, by pleading hostihty 
to the alliance with France ; and he attempted to induce others to 
imitate his example, if it be admitted that he had a right to 
abandon the American standard ; no plea can justify the attempt 
to employ the power committed to him for the ruin of those who 
had trusted him ; some of whom, perhaps, had been encouraged 
by his example and incitement to take up arms against the British 
authority. The name of Arnold must go down to posterity, loaded 
with all the infamy of a traitor : and it were for the honour of human 
nature, and the coiAnon advantage of nations, if all governments 
would unite in manifesting their detestation of such villanies. 

After the melancholy event now related, no military transactions 
of much importance were carried on in the north during the 
remainder of the campaign. On the 21st of November, indeed, 
Major Talmadge performed a brilliant exploit of desultory warfare. 
Being informed that the British had a large magazine of forage, at 
Coram on Long Island, protected by a small garrison at Fort St. 
George on South Haven, in its vicinity, he crossed the Sound 
where it was upwards of twenty miles broad ; and, with nearly 
one hundred men, surprised the fort ; made the garrison, upwards 
of fifty in number, prisoners ; burnt the magazines at Coram ; 
and, escaping the British cruisers, recrossed the Sound without 
losing a man. On the other hand. Major Carleton, at the head of 
one thousand men, Europeans, Indians, and loyalists, made a sud- 
den irruption into the northern parts of the state of New York, took 
forts Anne and George, and made the garrisons prisoners. At the 
same time, Sir John Johnson, at the head of a body of a similar 
description, appeared on the Mohawk. 

On the approach of winter, both armies went into winter quarters. 
General Washington stationed the Pennsylvania line near Morris- 
town ; the Jersey line, about Pompton, on the confines of New 
York and New Jersey ; the troops of New England, in West Point 
and its vicinity, on both sides of the North River ; while the troops 
of New York remained at Albany, whither they had been sent to 
oppose the invasion of Carleton and Johnson.* 

* Western World. 



CORNWALLIS'S ARMY. 391 

Towards the close of the year, an agreement for the exchange 
of prisoners was entered into between Generals Lincoln and Philips. 
Philips had been an American prisoner since the convention of 
Saratoga, and the former in the power of the British since the sur- 
render of Charleston. Hitherto Congress had shown no forward- 
ness to enter into arrangements for a general exchange of prisoners. 
That body was aware of the great expense of recruiting the British 
army from Europe, and the slender accession of strength which, 
owing to short enhstments, their own military force would derive 
from a release of prisoners. They considered a general exchange 
unfavourable to their cause ; but many of the regular troops had 
fallen into the hands of the British, by the capitulation of Charles- 
ton, and the defeat of Gates at Camden. The complaints of the 
prisoners and of their friends were loud ; and for that reason Con- 
gress found it expedient to agree to a general exchange ; but the 
convention troops of Saratoga were detained prisoners till the end 
of the war. 

We must now fulfil our promise to take a rapid view of those 
movements in the south which led to Lord Cornwalhs's invasion 
of Virginia. That officer, it will be recollected, was left in com- 
mand of the British army in the south, when General Clinton re- 
turned to New York (June 5th.) His force was four thousand 
men ; his position the borders of North and South Carolina ; his 
object the complete subjection of the southern states, which he 
considered a natural consequence of the fall of Savannah and 
Charleston. 

Active hostilities were recommenced on July 12th, two months 
after the fall of Charleston, when one hundred and thirty-three of 
Colonel Sumpter's corps routed a detachment of royal forces and 
mihtia at WilHamson's plantation. In consequence of this first 
advantage over the British since their landing, the inhabitants of 
South Carohna flocked to the American standard in such numbers, 
as in a few days to swell Sumpter's force to six hundred men. 
With these, he attacked a party of British at Rocky Mount ; but 
being destitute of artillery, and the enemy well defended by their 
works, he was obliged to retreat. Sensible of the influence which 
action and excitement have upon militia, he fell upon another party, 
consisting of the Prince of Wales's regiment and some Tories. The 
British force was reduced from two hundred and seventy-three to 
nine, and the royalists dispersed. 




392 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

UT while the southern people were gratified by 
these desultory victories, and by the news that a 
respectable continental force was marching to 
their assistance, difficulties arose from another 
source. The necessary supplies for the army 
were so long delayed that fears began to be en- 
tertained of their complete failure. This arose 
from the refusal oi the manufacturers to deliver their articles with- 
out immediate payment. At length, after great exertions the Mary- 
land and Delaware troops were enabled to move. Under the com- 
mand of the Baron de Kalb, they marched through Pennsylvania 
and Jersey, embarked at the head of Elk, April 16th, landed at 
Petersburg, and thence proceeded toward South Carolina. Before 
commencing this last part of the route, the command was trans- 
ferred to Major-general Gates, who, in consequence of his brilHant 
success in the north, had been selected by Congress to conduct the 
southern war. On assuming the command, this officer altered the 
baron's plan of a circuitous route, and decided upon taking the 
shortest road to Camden. This led through an open pine barren ; 
and in their march the army were obliged to suffer under a burn- 
ing sun, want of water and provisions, and the ravages of a wast- 
ing disease. Although there was, at first, some murmuring, and 
even indications of mutiny, yet, in general, the soldiers bore their 
sufferings patiently. On the 13th of August, they reached Cler- 
mont, thirteen miles from Camden, and were next day joined by a 
body of Virginia militia under General Stephens. 

The first operation of General Gates was to publish a proclama- 
tion, inviting all citizens of the south to join the standard of their 
country, and promising forgiveness to those who, under the pres- 
sure of adverse circumstances, had united their arms with the Bri- 
tish. This proclamation had considerable effect. The people had 
been insulted and ground down by a ruthless conqueror ; and 
although prior to the arrival of the American army they had been 
to a great degree dormant, yet it was merely for want of an oppor- 
tunity to display their real disposition. That opportunity they 
now improved. 

On the approach of Gates, Lord Cornwallis hastened from Charles- 
ton to Camden, which he reached on the 14th. He found there a 
force of seventeen hundred infantry and three hundred cavalry. 
That of his adversary, including militia, was nearly four thousand 
men ; but the regular force numbered only nine hundred infantry 
and seventy cavalry. Notwithstanding this disparity in numbers, 



BATTLE OF CAMDEN. 393 

Cornwallis determined to give battle, and on the night of the 15th 
marched from Camden with his whole force. The same night, 
Gates also left his camp, for the purpose of occupying a favourable 
position about eight miles from Camden. On the route, the advanced 
cavalry of Colonel Arnaud, flanked by light infantry, encountered 
the advance guard of the British, and a skirmish ensued in the 
early part of which the Maryland regiment was broken, and the 
whole line thrown into confusion. The Americans, however, ral- 
lied, and both armies continued to skirmish through the night. In 
this affair. Colonel Potterfield, commander of the light infantry and 
a very able officer, was wounded. 

The general engagement was reserved for the next morning. At 
the first onset the American left wing, composed of Virginia militia, 
throwing down their arms, fled, and were followed by a part of 
those from North Carolina, The whole battle was now directed 
against the continental troops, who, notwithstanding the unworthy 
example of their comrades, coolly maintained their ground, and at 
one time had actually secured a number of prisoners. 

On that disastrous day, the Americans lost the finest army ever 
concentrated in the Southern States. The enemy captured two 
hundred and ninety prisoners, only eighty-six of whom were militia, 
all the artillery, consisting of eight field-pieces, more than two 
hundred wagons, and the greater part of the baggage. Every 
American corps was broken and dispersed, and every officer sepa- 
rated from his command. The Baron de Kalb, while bravely 
fighting at the head of his command, was wounded and taken pri- 
soner into Camden, where he next day died. 

The loss of the royal army was also severe ; and they owed the 
completeness of their victory solely to the cowardice of the militia, 
and to their own superiority in cavalry. 

The defeat of Gates was followed by that of Sumpter, whose 
troops, being attacked by Colonel Tarleton, lost all their artillery, 
and a number of recently captured prisoners, and were themselves 
either killed, captured, or dispersed. 

Toward the end of August, the wretched remains of the American 
army commenced their retreat towards SaUsbury. That retreat 
was one of complicated sufferings. The wounded were too nume- 
rous to be carried. Even those who had escaped the sword were 
drooping with sickness; pain, anxiety, hurry, and confusion, 
brooded over their gloomy journey. Soon after their arrival at 
Salisbury, General Gates went to Hillsborough to devise plansj in 
50 



394 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

concert with the North Carolina authorities, for the renewal of 
operations. 

Though the victory at Camden had given Lord Cornwallis com- 
plete ascendency over the south, yet, from the heat of the season 
and the sickness of his troops, he was restrained from improving 
it by active hostilities. Determined, however, to punish the teme- 
rity and rebellion of those who had resisted the royal forces, he 
issued orders "that all the inhabitants of the province who had 
submitted, and who had taken part in this revolt, should be pun- 
ished with the greatest rigour ; that they should be imprisoned, 
and their whole property taken from them or destroyed," and that 
" every militia-man who had borne arras with the British, and after- 
wards joined the Americans, should be put to death." These were 
the results of the favourite theory of his lordship, that his contest 
was not with an independent nation, but with outlaws and rebels. 

Notwithstanding the execution of several, under these orders, 
together with a large confiscation of property, many most respect- 
able citizens resisted every temptation to resume the character of 
British subjects. They were consequently deprived of their homes 
and property, and shipped to St. Augustine, General Moultrie 
remonstrated against their removal, as contrary to the terms of the , 
capitulation of Charleston ; but his remonstrance was disregarded. 

Thus, the cause of southern freedom had become one of poverty, 
exile, and ruin. But though numbers forfeited their patriotism, 
there were some illustrious characters, whom losses could not dis- 
hearten, threats intimidate, nor suffering change. To make their 
country happy, they sacrificed their own happiness ; to redeem her 
from poverty, they themselves became poor ; and cheerfully em- 
braced chains and exile, that their example might assist in the 
emancipation of America. 

Even the ladies became martyrs. They visited the prison-ships 
in order to solace the suffering captives. At the evening assem- 
blies, the gay conqueror was passed by unheeded ; but the American 
officer, though a prisoner, was loaded with marks of attention and 
respect ; and when, in the progress of the war, they, as well as 
their husbands and brothers, were commanded from their native 
country, they cheerfully followed them even to distant regions. 

The success of Lord Cornwallis once more inspired the British 
ministry with the hope of subjugating America. That body confi- 
dently asserted that such troops as fought at Camden, conducted 
by the same general, would soon extirpate rebellion so effectually 
as to leave no vestige of it in America. But a second Saratoga 



BATTLE OF KING'S MOUNTAIN. 



.S95 




was soon to deliver them 
from this fond error, by the 
defeat and surrender of 
those very troops. 

The severities of the 
British toward defenceless 
citizens, instead of attain- 
ing the desired end, after 
some time began to foster 
a spirit of hatred and re- 
venge. Those who had 
been deprived of their 
homes fled into the inte- 
rior and united themselves 
with Marion, Pickens, and 
Sumpter, who, subsequently to the defeat of Gates, had been ele- 
vated, by Governor Rutledge, to the rank of brigadier-generals. 
The parties thus formed, though entirely destitute of artillery, and 
often of provisions and small arms, tended by their presence to 
keep alive a feeling of opposition in American bosoms. From their 
retreats in forests and deep swamps, they sallied out as often as 
opportunity presented, and besides sometimes obtaining slight 
advantages, they continually annoyed the enemy. 

With a view to destroy these partisans, as well as to render their 
authority more congenial to the inhabitants, the British had long 
been endeavouring to form the Carolinians into a royal militia. 
Major Ferguson, of the 71st regiment, having by very active exer- 
tion raised such a corps, advanced toward North Carolina, in order 
that his presence might there promote the royal cause. Upon 
approaching Augusta, he learned that a Colonel Clark had re- 
cently made an unsuccessful attack upon that place, and resolving 
to intercept his retreat, he took up a position on King's Mountain. 
Here he was attacked on the 7th of October, by about a thousand 
repubUcans, who had formed themselves into three parties, and 
advanced alternately to the charge. The British fought principally 
with the bayonet, and overthrew each division of their opponents 
as it presented itself. But instead of fleeing, the discomfited 
Americans either retired to a short distance, rallied, and renewed 
their charge, or entered the surrounding thickets, from whence they 
poured forth a most galling fire. 

Ferguson, after displaying the greatest bravery, received a mor- 
tal wound. Two hundred and twenty-five of his men were killed 



396 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

or wounded, and the remainder, amounting to eight hundred, 
obliged to surrender. The assailants lost but few ; yet among 
these was the brave Colonel Williams, a militia officer who had been 
very active in opposing the re-establishment of British authority. 

The army thus signally successful was of the most heterogeneous 
nature. They had not collected in obedience to superior orders, 
but from a spontaneous desire to resist their oppressors. Among 
their number, were Colonel Campbell of Virginia, Colonels Cleve- 
land, Shelby, Sevier, and McDowell of North Carolina, and Colo- 
nels Lacey, Hawthorn, and Hill, of South Carolina. These, by 
common consent, commanded each day alternately. Their hard- 
ships were equal to their patriotism. Some of them subsisted for 
weeks without tasting bread, salt, or spirituous liquors. At night 
the earth was their bed and the trees their covering. Such was 
the fare of the heroes of King's Mountain. 

Ferguson was a most able officer, possessing an uncommon 
spirit of enterprise and distinguished talents as a partisan. His 
unexpected defeat filled the Americans with exultation, and pro- 
portionably damped the spirit of the Tories. 

Soon after the battle of King's Mountain, CornwalHs left Camden 
with his main army and moved toward Salisbury. On the way he 
met with many confirmations of the fact that South Carolina was 
not conquered. Groups of riflemen hung upon his march, annoy- 
ing him so perseveringly that it became hazardous for his com- 
panies to leave the main body. Together with the Ferguson catas- 
trophe, this convinced him that much of the labour which he had 
supposed to be accomplished, was yet to be encountered. Under 
these circumstances, his lordship abandoned the design of pene- 
trating into North Carolina, and retreated to Hillsborough. 

Meanwhile Sumpter had collected a respectable force, with which 
he so harassed the British parties, that intercourse between their 
different posts could be effected only with caution and difficulty. 
He was in consequence attacked on November 12th, at Broad 
River, by Major Wemyss, but defeated the British and captured their 
commander. Eight days after he had a second battle with Lieuten- 
ant-colonel Tarleton, at Black Stocks, near Tyger River. The 
enemy charged with one hundred and seventy dragoons and eighty 
men ; but Sumpter, having thrown his force into a large log barn, 
met the charge with firmness, and Tarleton was obliged to retreat, 
with the loss of three officers and a considerable number of men. 
In this affair General Sumpter was wounded. 

While these events were transpiring, General Gates had been. 



CLOSE OF THE CAMPAIGN. 



397 



endeavouring to raise a force sufficient to enable him again to take 
the field, and retrieve the consequences of his former defeat. This, 
however, he was not permitted to accomplish. Public opinion 
loudly condemned his conduct at Camden ; and Congress, obeying 
its influence, resolved to supersede him, and submit his case to a 
court of inquiry. This was pursuant to a former resolve, that who- 
ever lost a post should be subjected to such examination. On his 
way home the feelings of the unfortunate general were soothed by 
a testimonial from the Virginia House of Burgesses, assuring him 
that "the remembrance of former glorious services could not be 
obliterated by any reverse of fortune, and that they would omit no 
opportunity of testifying to the world the gratitude which the 
country owed to him in his military character." 

Thus closed the southern campaign of 1780. Though British 
conquests had rapidly succeeded each other, yet no advantages 
accrued to the victors. Such was the disposition of the people, 
diat the expense of retaining them in subjection exceeded the profits 
of their conquest. British garrisons kept down open resistance in 
the vicinity of the places where they were established ; but as soon 
as they were withdrawn, and the people left to themselves, a spirit 
of revolt always displayed itself, and the standard of independence 
never w^anted the active and spirited partisan to defend it. 




G E N a R A. L, GATES 



2L 



398 



LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 




CHAPTER XIX. 



OTHING now seemed to interfere with 
the British projects of conquest in the 
south ; their general good fortune since 
the reduction of Savannah and Charles- 
ton caused them to plan an invasion 
of North Carolina, as the business of 
the winter following Gates's defeat. 
Every circumstance seemed to favour 
the project. The Southern army was 
too weak to take the field, nor had 
Congress or the northern forces the means of strengthening it ; and 
even could Washington have spared part of his troops, the time 




OPERATIONS OF GENERAL GREENE. 399 

necessary to transport them seven hundred miles %YOuld have been 
amply sufficient to enable the enemy to execute their plans, and 
thus frustrate the object of their arrival. All therefore that Congress 
could do, was to appoint a general to supersede General Gates. 
At the earnest recommendation of Washington, they elected Gene- 
ral Greene, who was soon to prove that the confidence of the com- 
mander-in-chief was not misapplied. 

Upon the reception of his commission, Greene immediately pro- 
ceeded to Charlottestown, where General Gates had concentrated 
the remnant of his forces. He there received the transfer of that 
general's authority, and entered upon his official duties. 

The same day the army received news of the success of Lieu- 
tenant-colonel Washington, in an attack on Clermont, eighteen 
miles from Camden, and station of Lieutenant-colonel Rugely of 
the British militia. The plan of attack was somewhat novel. 
Having no artillery, the colonel planted the trunk of a pine tree so 
that it resembled a field-piece, and parading it in front of a block- 
house, in which were the enemy, peremptorily demanded a sur- 
render. The ruse succeeded, and without firing a gun one hun- 
dred men, defended by a guard-house and abbatis, became pri- 
soners. 

Upon assuming the southern command, Greene found himself 
encompassed with difficulties. The late disasters had been no less 
fatal to the subordination than to the success of the American 
arms. The regulars were without pay, and often wanted proper 
clothing and provisions; while the continental currency, their only 
money, was so depreciated as to be no longer an article of exchange. 
Beside these difficulties, the sufferers from exile and loss of pro- 
perty were clamorous for immediate action, and the militia, 
though generally so inefficient when in battle, were still more so 
while idle. In a word, at the head of two thousand defeated men, 
one-half of whom were raw militia, he was to oppose a superior 
force of the best troops on the western continent. His first care 
was to enforce discipline ; and he effected it, by promptly executing 
a few of the glaringly mutinous. To raise necessaries for the army, 
he was obliged to resort to impressment ; and this he conducted in 
so delicate a manner as to effect his object without alienating the 
affections of the inhabitants. With regard to his operations, after 
mature deUberation had manifested the folly of an attempt at im- 
mediate open warfare, he determined to harass the enemy in detail, 
until the successes of a partisan struggle would swell the number 
of his army so as to enable him to risk a pitched battle. 



400 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

Soon after the adoption of this plan, he sent General Morgan, 
with a respectable detachment, to the western part of South Caro- 
lina, and marched with the main body of his army to Hick's Creek, 
on the north bank of the Pedee. 

Morgan was joined by a considerable number of militia, who, 
since the establishment of the British at Ninety-Six, had been 
ground down with cruel oppression, and were now burning for 
revenge. 

As soon as the intelligence of this movement reached Lord Corn- 
wallis, he despatched Colonel Tarleton, with eleven hundred men 
and two field-pieces, to "push the Americans to the utmost." 
Tarleton advanced with celerity, confident that his superiority, both 
in cavalry and infantry, together with the undisciplined condition 
of his opponents, would secure an easy victory. 

The engagement took place on the 17th of January at the Cow- 
pens. The Americans formed two lines ; the first composed of 
one hundred and ninety North Carolina militia, under Colonel 
Pickens ; and the second, of light infantry and a corps of Virginia 
riflemen. These were some hundred yards behind the others ; and 
in the rear of both was the cavalry of Lieutenant-colonel Washing- 
ton with about forty-five mounted militia. Though the British 
W'cre exhausted with fatigue, Tarleton immediately ordered a 
charge, which he conducted in person. The first line, after some 
resistance, was broken, and the second shared a similar fate. 
Tarleton had begun to cut down the militia, when he was stopped 
by an unexpected charge of Colonel Washington, which was 
almost immediately seconded by one from Howard, with fixed 
bayonets. The militia, elated with this success, rushed on in great 
numbers, driving back the British advance-guard, and seizing their 
artillery. Amid the wild confusion of these simultaneous victories, 
Howard called to the enemy to surrender. The greater part 
obeyed, and of all Tarleton's army but one small party escaped, 
to carry the news to Cornwallis. Morgan's loss was twelve killed 
and sixty wounded ; while that of the British was three hundred 
killed and wounded, five hundred prisoners, eight hundred must 
kets, one hundred dragoon horses, thirty-five baggage- wagons, and 
two field-pieces. 

For their conduct in this brilliant affair, the officers received tes- 
timonials from Congress ; and the whole army the thanks of that 
body. In its consequences, it was one of the most important 
actions of the Revolution ; and the circumstances under which it 
was fought, challenge our utmost astonishment at its success. 



BATTLE OF COWPENS. 401 

The news of this misfortune, though it mortified, did not dis- 
courage CornwalHs. He determined, by a vigorous movement to the 
South, to nullify the impressions of defeat, and intercept Morgan, 
who, with his prisoners, was proceeding to Virginia. Notified of 
these movements, General Greene, after marching from Hick's 
Creek, left his army with General Huger, and rode one hundred 
and fifty miles, to join Morgan, that he might be in front of Corn- 
wallis, and make the junction of his two commands more easy. 
Immediately on his arrival, he ordered the prisoners to Charlotte- 
ville, and his troops to Guilford court-house, to which place Gene- 
ral Huger had been directed to proceed. 

In their retreat, the Americans underwent almost incredible 
hardships. Besides being exhausted by fatigue and hunger, they 
were obliged to march bare-foot over the frozen ground, and often 
to ford deep creeks, yet far from murmuring, they submitted to all 
this, cheerfully. The royal army fared little better than their 
adversaries ; for being obliged to destroy their baggage, in order to 
facilitate their progress, they encountered many privations hitherto 
almost unknown. 

So active were the movements of the British general, that he 
reached the Catawba on the evening of the same day that the 
Americans had crossed it. Here his progress was for a while ar- 
rested by a heavy rain, which rendered the river impassable. When 
the freshet subsided, the enemy crossed by wading, and having 
dispersed -a small company of militia who had opposed them, 
pushed forward, in hopes of overtaking Morgan before he could cross 
the Yadkin. They were again disappointed. The elements again 
favoured the Americans, and the British were again detained by 
the swelling of the river. These hair-breadth escapes were consi- 
dered by the Americans as proof that their cause was favoured by 
Heaven, and impressed religious people with such sentiments as 
added fresh vigour to their exertions. 

Cornwallis now marched to the upper fords of the Yadkin, but 
before he could cross, Greene had united his forces at Guilford 
court-house. Even now his numbers were so inferior to that of his 
antagonist, that a council of officers unanimously agreed that he 
ought to retire over the Dan, and by no means risk an engage- 
ment. Apprized of this, his lordship determined to keep the upper 
country, where the streams were fordable, so that his opponent being 
unable to cross below, and having his supplies and reinforcements 
intercepted, would be obliged to give battle under many disadvan- 
tages. In this expectation he was deceived ; Greene, by good 
51 3 L 2 



402 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

management, eluded the snare. By the most indefatigable exer- 
tions he transported his army artillery and baggage over the Dan 
into Virginia ; yet, with so narrow an escape that the van of the 
British arrived just as the rear of the Americans had crossed. To 
the royal army this escape appeared almost incredible ; and their 
mortification must have been unbounded. They had cheerfully 
submitted to fatigue, starvation, and every other hardship ; and 
when their object seemed within grasp, their hopes were destined 
to a bitter disappointment. 

Cornwallis, however, consoled himself by the reflection that he 
could improve the opportunity offered by the absence of the Ameri- 
cans in assembling the royalists and establishing a constitutional 
government. He therefore published a proclamation to that effect, 
and afterwards erected the king's standard at Hillsborough. The 
experiment was, however, attended with so little success that he 
found it necessary to despatch Tarleton, with four hundred and 
fifty men, to the Deep River, in order to incite a loyal spirit among 
the inhabitants of that region. Hearing of this movement, and 
apprehensive that the absence of the American army would be fatal 
to their cause in the south, Greene determined ta re-enter North 
Carolina at all hazards. Accordingly, he crossed the Dan, and 
immediately dismissed General Pickens and Lieutenant-colonel 
Lee, in pursuit of Tarleton. On their way they met with a body of 
three hundred and fifty Tories, who mistook the Americans for Bri- 
tish, and were cut down while making protestations of their loyalty. 
Tarleton was about a mile from this scene of slaughter, and upon 
hearing the alarm, crossed the Haw River, and returned to Hills- 
borough. On his retreat, he killed several of the royalists who 
were on their way to join the British, and whom he mistook for 
American militia. 

These movements of General Greene entirely disconcerted the 
plans of Cornwallis, and so damped the spirit of the Tories, that 
they left him in large numbers. 

Though the American commander had resumed the field, he did 
not wish to risk a general action, but to keep alive the courage of 
his army by harassing the foragers and detachments of the enemy. 
So artful were his movements, that for seven days he lay within ten 
miles of the hostile camp ; changing his position every night, and 
keeping it a profound secret where the next one would be. At the 
end of three weeks, he was joined by two brigades of militia from 
North Carolina, one from Virginia, and four hundred regulars. 
Having now a superiority in numbers, he gave battle on the 15th 



^ 



BATTLE OF GUILFORD COURT-HOUSE. 403 

of March at Guilford Court-house, His array consisted of four 
thousand four hundred men, more than one half of which were 
militia ; that of Cornwallis, two thousand four hundred, chiefly 
veteran troops. The former were drawn up in three lines ; the 
front, composed of North Carolina militia, the second of Virginia 
militia, the third of continentals under General Huger, and Colonel 
Williams. The British advanced in three columns ; the Hessians 
on the right, the guards in the centre, and Lieutenant-colonel Web- 
ster's brigade on the left. The American front gave way almost as 
soon as attacked, in consequence of the indiscretion of a colonel, 
who called out to an officer that he would be surrounded. The 
Virginia militia maintained their ground with great spirit, but were 
also obliged to retreat. The continental troops were last engaged, 
and fought bravely for an hour and a half; but the discipline of 
veterans gained the day. They broke the second Maryland bri- 
gade, turned the left flank, and were endeavouring to encircle the 
American regulars. A retreat therefore became indispensable. It 
was ably conducted by Greene, who retired but three miles. 

In this battle the Americans lost about four hundred killed and 
wounded ; among the latter were Generals Huger and Stephens. 
The loss of the British was severe. Besides several hundred pri- 
vates, Colonel Webster, an able and much beloved officer, Colonel 
Stuart, and three captains were killed ; and Generals O'Hara and 
Howard, and Colonel Tarleton wounded. 

Though Cornwallis had gained a victory, he was in no condition 
to improve it. The long-sought interview with his adversary ill 
repaid the toil and anxiety which he had expended to accomplish 
it. So effectually had it crippled his abilities, that on the 19th, 
he broke up his camp and retreated towards W^ilmington. Greene 
having re-collected his forces, and provided for the wounded of 
both armies, immediately pursued as far as Ramsey's Mill, on the 
Deep River. From Wilmington his lordship marched towards 
Virginia ; but instead of pursuing him, Greene formed the bold 
design of returning to South Carolina. Hazardous as was this 
attempt, circumstances afterwards proved that it was the very best 
one which could have been devised, as well as demonstrated the 
sagacity of the man who planned and executed it. 

Before Greene commenced his march, he sent orders to General 
Pickens, to prevent supplies from going to the British garrisons at 
Augusta and Ninety-Six, and soon after proceeded towards the latter 
station. No sooner was his approach known than the friends of Con- 
gress were filled with exultation. The spirit of opposition had ever 



404 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

been sustained by Sumpter, Marion, and other partisans, who now 
hailed the coming campaign as the reward of their long exertions. 
Before the arrival of the American army, the latter general, accom- 
panied by Lieutenant-colonel Lee, invested Fort Watson, between 
Camden and Charleston, and obliged it to surrender. 

On the arrival of General Greene, he encamped before Camden, 
which was defended by Lord Rawdon with nine hundred men. 
In consequence of his force being insufficient for an assault, he took 
a good position about a mile distant, in order to allure the garrison 
from their works. He was successful, and an engagement ensued, 
in which the Americans were worsted; but they retreated in such 
good order as to save most of their wounded, artillery, and pri- 
soners. The British retired to Camden, and the Americans to about 
five miles above their former position. 

Lord Rawdon, on the 7th of May, received a considerable rein- 
forcement under Colonel Watson. He, therefore, on the next day, 
endeavoured to give battle to General Greene. But failing in this, 
and having all his supplies intercepted, he returned to Camden, 
burned the jails, mills, and his own baggage, and evacuated the 
post. Soon after, the British were obliged to contract their extended 
chain of communication, and retire within the Santee. This mea- 
sure greatly animated the friends of Congress, as well as the par- 
tisan militia, and was immediately followed by the surrender of a 
post at Orangeburg to General Sumpter, and of Fort Motte on the 
following day. Three days after, the garrison of Fort Granby, con- 
sisting of three hundred and fifty-two men, surrendered to Colonel 
Lee. About the same time, Marion compelled the garrison of 
Georgetown to evacuate that post. 

But few stations now remained in possession of the British. One 
of these, Fort Cornwallis, was attacked by Lieutenant-colonel Lee, 
and Colonel Pickens, and, after an obstinate resistance, compelled 
to capitulate. The Americans took three hundred prisoners, and 
had about forty killed and wounded. 

Some acts of retaliation took place about this time, which became 
a source of uneasiness to the officers. By strenuous exertions some of 
the perpetrators were discovered and received summary punishment. 

Meanwhile, General Greene, with the main army, laid siege to 
Ninety-Six, in which was Lieutenant-colonel Crugar, with five hun- 
dred men. On the left of the besiegers was a work in the form of 
a star ; on the right a strong stockade fort, containing two block- 
houses. The town was also defended with strong pickets, and 
surrounded by a ditch and high bank. The Americans pushed 



BATTLE OF EUTAW SPRINGS. 407 

the siege with vigour, erecting four batteries, the last wit-hin a hun- 
dred lines of the main fort. The abattis was turned, and a mine 
and two trenches extended to within six feet of the ditch, when 
news arrived that Lord Rawdon was hastily approaching at the 
head of two thousand men. This at once blasted the fair pros- 
pects of the Americans, and after an unsuccessful assault, they 
raised the siege, and retreated over the Saluda. In this siege the 
Polish general, Kosciusko, particularly distinguished himself. His 
devotion to the American cause had already won him the confi- 
dence and esteem of Washington, Greene, and the other leading 
generals of the Revolution. 

The disappointment of the American general was as bitter as it 
was unexpected ; yet still his elastic spirit refused to despond ; and 
w^hen advised to retire to Virginia, his reply w^as : "I will recover 
South Carolina, or die in the attempt." As on a former occasion, 
he determined to attack the enemy in detail, and intercept their 
supplies. He therefore declined battle, when offered by Rawdon, 
until that general had divided his forces, when he showed himself 
with such effect that his lordship retreated to Orangeburg, closely 
pursued by his indefatigable opponent. 

At Orangeburg, Lord Rawdon was joined by Lieutenant Crugar, 
who had evacuated Ninety-Six ; and General Greene, unable to 
resist their combined force, retired to the high hills above Santee. 
In order to carry out his plan, and compel the evacuation of 
Orangeburg, Marion and Sumpter were despatched against Monk's 
Corner, and Dorchester. They took different roads, and com- 
menced separate and successful attacks on convoys and detach- 
ments in the vicinity of Charleston. In this manner was the war 
conducted. While the British forces were compact they could 
neither cover the country, nor force the Americans to action ; and 
when divided, the detachments were attacked separately, and de- 
feated. The consequence was, that the spirit of revolt became 
general, and the royal interest daily declined. 

Lord Rawdon now took post near the junction of the Wateree 
and Congaree ; but upon the approach of Greene retired to the 
Eutaw Springs, forty miles nearer Charleston. Here he was 
attacked by the Americans, and a severe engagement ensued. 
Greene's front line was composed of militia, who commenced the 
attack on some advance parties of the enemy, and behaved with 
great courage. The continentals next engaged, rushing to the 
charge through a heavy cannonade and shower of musketry. They 
were led by Colonels Williams and Campbell, the latter of whom 



408 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

was mortally wounded, but survived long enough to learn the com- 
plete success of the Americans. The British fled to a large brick 
house, from which it was found impracticable to dislodge them. 
Their loss, inclusive of prisoners, w^as one thousand one hundred 
men ; that of the Americans, five hundred, of whom sixty were 
officers. 

General Greene was honoured by Congress with a British stand- 
ard and gold medal ; and the thanks of that body were voted to 
the different corps and commanders. 

This battle closed the active warfare in the south. The Ameri- 
cans retired to their former position above Santee, and the British 
stationed themselves near Monk's Corner. Both armies subse- 
quently moved to the lower country. A few excursions wTre 
afterwards made by the enemy, and sundry small enterprises exe- 
cuted ; but nothing of more general consequence than the loss of 
property and a few individual lives. 

Thus closed the campaign of 1781, in the south. Upon review- 
ing its operations, we are forcibly impressed by tht talents of the 
man who, during that gloomy period, redeemed and strengthened 
the American cause. With an unpaid and half naked army, he 
had to contend with veteran soldiers, who were supplied with 
every thing that the wealth of Britain and the plunder of Carolina 
could furnish ; yet he compelled superior numbers to retire from 
the extremity of the state, and confine themselves in the capital 
and its vicinity. Neither defeat nor difficulties could overcome 
his indomitable perseverance ; and for him to lose a battle was but 
to gain a store of experience, some day to be exercised to the dis- 
comfiture of his enemies. 

The year 1781 had opened with very gloomy prospects for the 
cause of American independence. Vigorous and united efforts on 
the part of the United States were needful to meet the co-opera- 
tion of the succours from France ; but the states seemed feeble 
and irresolute. The people were heartily tired of the war ; but 
though no better affected towards Great Britain than before, yet 
they earnestly desired deliverance from the multiplied miseries of 
the long protracted struggle. At first they had rushed impetuously 
into the contest ; but their early ardour had begun to cool. In the 
Eastern States particularly, since the theatre of war had been trans- 
ferred to the south, the greatest apathy prevailed. 

Congress had called for an army of thirty-seven thousand men, 
to be in camp on the first of January. The resolution, as usual, 
was too late ; but even, although it could have been promulgated rea- 



DESTITUTION OF THE ARMY. 409 

sonably, so large a force could not have been brought into the field 
under the imperfect organization of the government. The deficien- 
cies and delays on the part of the several states exceeded all rea- 
sonable anticipation. At no time during this active and interest- 
ing campaign did the regular force drawn from Pennsylvania to 
Georgia, inclusive, exceed three thousand men. So late as the 
month of April, the states, from New Jersey to New Hampshire 
inclusive, had furnished only five thousand infantry ; but this force 
was slowly and gradually increased ; till, in the month of May, 
including cavalry and artillery, which never exceeded one thousand 
men, it presented a total of about seven thousand, of whom four 
thousand might have been relied on in active service. A consider- 
able part of this force arrived in camp too late to acquire, during 
the campaign, that discipline which is essential to military success. 
Inadequate as this army was for asserting the independence of the 
country, the prospect of being unable to support it was still more 
alarming. The men were in rags : clothing had been long ex- 
pected from Europe, but had not arrived, and the disappointment 
was severely felt. 

The diary of Washington, as well as his correspondence, bears 
ample evidence of the destitute condition of the army, and of the 
severe trials to which, as commander-in-chief, he was consequently 
exposed. The magazines were ill supphed ; the troops were often 
almost starving ; and the army was ready to be dissolved for want 
of food. The arsenals were nearly empty. Instead of having the 
requisites of a well-appointed army, every thing was deficient ; and 
there was little prospect of being better provided ; for money was 
as scarce as food and military stores. Congress had resolved to 
issue no more bills on the credit of the Union ; and the care of 
supplying the army was devolved upon the several states, according 
to a rule established by that body. Even when the states had col- 
lected the specified provisions, the quartermaster-general had no 
funds to pay for the transportation of them to the army, to accom- 
plish which, military impressment was resorted to in a most offen- 
sive degree. Congress was surroun'^'ed with difinculties : the seve- 
ral states were callous and dilatory ; and American affairs wore an 
aspect of debility and decay. To deepen the general gloom, there 
were portentous rumours of preparations for savage warfare along 
the whole extent of the western frontier; of an invasion on the side 
of Canada ; and of strong disaffection in Vermont. In the midst 
of financial difficulties and apprehensions of attack both from foreign 
and domestic enemies, a new and alarming danger appeared, in a 
52 2M 



410 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

quarter where it was little expected, and which threatened to con- 
summate the ruin of American independence. The privations and 
sufferings of the troops had been uncommonly great. To the usual 
hardships of a military life, were added nakedness and hunger, 
under that rigour of climate which whets the appetite and renders 
clothing absolutely necessarj^. By the depreciation of the paper 
currency, their pay was little more than nominal, and it w^as many 
months in arrear. 

Besides those evils w^hich were common to the whole army, the 
troops of Pennsylvania imagined that they laboured under peculiar 
grievances. Their officers had engaged them for three years, or 
during the war. On the expiration of three years, the soldiers thought 
themselves entitled to a discharge ; the officers alleged that they 
were engaged for the war. The large bounties given to those who 
were not bound by previous enlistment, heightened the discontent 
of the soldiers, and made them more zealous in asserting what they 
thought their right. In the first transports of their patriotism they 
had readily enlisted ; but men will not long willingly submit to 
immediate and unprofitable hardships in the prospect of distant and 
contingent rewards. 

The discontents engendered by the causes now mentioned had 
for some time been increasing; and, on the 1st of January, 1781, 
broke out into open and almost universal mutiny of the troops of 
Pennsylvania. On a signal given, the greater part of the non-com- 
missioned officers and privates paraded under arms, declaring 
their intention of marching to the seat of Congress to obtain a 
redress of grievances or to abandon the service. The officers made 
every exertion to bring them back to their duty, but in vain ; in 
the attempt, a captain was killed and several other persons wounded. 
General Wayne interposed ; but on cocking his pistols at some of 
the most audacious of the mutineers, several bayonets were at his 
breast, the men exclaiming, "We respect you, we love you; but 
you are a dead man if you fire ! Do not mistake us ; we are not 
going to the enemy ; on the contrary, were they to come out, you 
should see us fight under you with as much resolution and alacrity 
as ever ; but we wish a redress of grievances, and will no longer 
be amused." Such of the Pennsylvania troops as had at first taken 
no part in the disturbance, were prevailed on to join the mutineers ; 
and the whole, amounting to thirteen hundred men, with six field- 
pieces, marched from Morristown under temporary officers of their 
own selection. General W^ashington's head-quarters were then at 
New Windsor, on the North River. 




MUTINY IN THE AMERICAN ARMY. 411 

Next day, General Wayne and Colonels Butter and Stewart, offi- 
cers who, in a high degree, enjoyed the confidence and affection of 
the troops, followed the mutineers ; but though civilly received, they 
could not succeed in adjusting the differences or in restoring subor- 
dination. On the third day, the mutineers resumed their march, 
and in the morning arrived at Princeton. Congress and the Penn- 
sylvania government, as well as General Washington, w^ere much 
alarmed by this mutiny, fearing that the example might be conta- 
gious and lead to the dissolution of the feeble American army. 
Therefore a committee of Congress, with the governor, and some 
members of the executive council of Pennsylvania, set out from 
Philadelphia for the purpose of allaying this dangerous commotion. 
REVIOUS to this, Sir Henry Clinton, who heard 
of the mutiny, on the morning of the 3d, was 
equally active in endeavouring to turn it to the ad- 
'i^HBH^^^^ vantage of the British. He ordered a large corps 
to be in readiness to march on a moment's notice, 
and sent two spies by way of Amboy, and two by 
way of Elizabethtown, as agents from himself to treat with the mu- 
tineers. But two of the persons employed were actually spies on 
himself, and soon disclosed his proposals to the American authori- 
ties. The two real spies, on reaching Princeton, were seized by 
the mutineers, and afterwards delivered up to General Wayne, who 
had them tried and executed on the 10th. 

At first the mutineers declined leaving Princeton ; but finding 
their demands would be substantially complied with, they marched 
to Trenton on the 9th, and before the 15th the matter was so far 
settled that the committee of Congress left Trenton and returned 
to Philadelphia. All who had enlisted for three years, or during 
the war, were discharged ; and in cases where the terms of enlist- 
ment could not be produced, the oath of the soldier was to be re- 
ceived as evidence on the point. They were to receive imme- 
diate certificates for the depreciation on their pay, and their ar- 
rears were to be settled as soon as circumstances would admit. 
On these terms, about one-half of the Pennsylvania troops ob- 
tained their discharge; numbers of them having, as afterwards 
appeared, made false declarations concerning the terms of their 
enlistment. 

Washington's agency in removing this alarming danger was 
felt in the advice which he gave to General Wayne to proffer his 
mediation between the soldiers and Congress, and to exert himself 
in obtaining a redress of grievances. That body, in this instance, 



412 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

was compelled, by the circumstances, to grant much more 
than what, if well timed, would have prevented this dangerous 
mutiny. 

The success of the Pennsylvania troops, in exacting their pay 
by threats of violence, produced a similar spirit of insubordination 
in another division of the army. On the night of the 20th of Janu- 
ary, about one hundred and sixty of the Jersey brigade, which was 
quartered at Pompton, complaining of grievances similar to those 
of the Pennsylvania line, and hoping for equal success, rose in 
arms, and marched to Chatham, with the view of prevailing on 
some of the troops stationed there to join them. Their number 
was not formidable ; and General Washington, knowing that he 
might depend on the fidelity of the greater part of his troops, and 
determined at all hazards to crush this mutinous spirit, detached 
General Robert Howe with six hundred men against the insurgents, 
with orders to force them to unconditional submission, and to exe- 
cute some of the most turbulent of them on the spot. These orders 
were promptly obeyed, and two of the ringleaders were put to 
death. This summary proceeding put an end to the mutiny, and 
restored the army to its usual discipline. 

Sir Henry Clinton, as in the case of the Pennsylvanians, endea- 
voured to take advantage of the mutiny of the Jersey brigade. He 
sent emissaries to negotiate with them, and detached General Ro- 
bertson with three thousand men to Staten Island, to be in readiness 
to support them, if they should accede to his proposals ; but the 
mutiny, by Washington's promptness, was so speedily crushed, 
that CHnton's emissaries had no time to act. 

These commotions among the soldiers awakened Congress to a 
sense of the public danger, and rendered it more attentive to the 
wants of the army than it had hitherto been. It raised three months' 
pay in specie ; and even that small sum was gratefully received by 
the troops, who considered it a token that the civil authorities were 
not entirely regardless of their sufferings, or indifferent to their 
comfort. But, in attempting to escape one danger. Congress felt 
itself exposed to another scarcely less alarming. The means used 
to soothe the army irritated the people. The troops were scantily 
supplied ; and yet the inhabitants murmured loudly at the contri- 
butions levied upon them ; and the dissatisfaction which pervaded 
the mass of the community was almost as alarming as the mutinous 
spirit of the army.* 

* Western World. 



LOAN FROM FRANCE. 



413 




REVIOUS to these disturbances, the United 
States had been held together by a very 
slender bond. The powers of Congress were 
limited ; and it was not to be expected that 
thirteen independent states, each jealous of 
its liberty, power, and property, would 
promptly, harmoniously, and vigorously com- 
bine their strength during a protracted, ex- 
pensive, and bloody straggle. But though 
every man of discernment was sensible of tlie propriety of increas- 
ing the powers of Congress, and consequently of leaving less in the 
hands of the state legislatures ; yet the several states, having once 
been in the possession of power, felt no inclination to relinquish 
any part of their authority, how incompetent soever they might be 
to the advantageous exercise of it. Thus the concentration of a 
due degree of power in the hands of Congress was a measure that 
could not be easily accomplished. 

The war had continued much longer than the Americans had 
originally anticipated ; and the natural resources of the country, 
mismanaged by the inexperience of the government, and its igno- 
rance of the principles of political economy, were so much ex- 
hausted, that it became apparent the war could not be carried on 
without a foreign loan ; and France, sufficiently embarrassed with 
her own affairs, was the only country to which Congress could look 
for pecuniary aid. Accordingly, Colonel John Laurens was em- 
ployed on a mission to this country, and, besides endeavouring to 
negotiate a loan, was instructed to press on the French monarch 
the importance of maintaining a naval superiority in the American 
seas. The valuable counsel of Washington was afforded to the 
envoy on this occasion, and his letter to Colonel Laurens, contain- 
ing statements and arguments in support of the application, had 
great influence when laid before the French king and his ministry, 
who recommended, in granting the loan, that the money to be ap- 
propriated to the army should be placed at the disposal of General 
Washington.* 

While the energies of America were paralyzed by the financial 
difficulties of Congress, the mutinous spirit of the army, and the 
selfishness and apathy of several of the states, the British interest 
in the country seemed in a prosperous condition. General Greene 
was maintaining a doubtful and hazardous struggle against Corn- 
w^allis, in North Carolina; and a British detachment from New 

* Sparks. 

2m2 



414 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

York, under the traitor Arnold, was ravaging the state of Vir- 
ginia. 

The untoward condition of American affairs could not be con- 
cealed from the British ministry, who flattered themselves that they 
would soon compel General Washington and his feeble army to 
take refuge in New England, and that they would reduce all the 
states south of the Hudson to submission to the British crown. 
But exertions on the one side, and reverses on the other, which 
neither had anticipated, were soon to change the relative condition 
of the contending parties. 

From the position and strength of the hostile armies opposed on 
the Hudson, neither could hope to gain any decisive advantage. 
The American force was entirely inadequate to attack New York ; 
and Sir Henry Clinton had no prospect of being able to force the 
strong posts of General Washington, in the highlands. Neither 
party could do more than carry on a petty and desultory warfare. 
Hitherto the Americans had received no direct aid from the French 
army. Ever since its arrival, the fleet of that nation had been 
blockaded at Newport ; and the land forces remained in a position 
to co-operate with the fleet, for mutual defence. 

About the middle of January, the British fleet was overtaken by 
a storm, off the east end of Long Island, and sustained so much 
loss and damage as to give the French fleet a superiority on the 
coast. Destouches, the French admiral, was prevailed on to seize 
that opportunity of sending a small force, under the command of 
M. de Tilly, to Chesapeake Bay, to act against Arnold, who was 
then pillaging Virginia; but this force returned to Newport in fifteen 
days from its departure, without accomplishing any thing except 
the capture of the Romulus, a fifly gun ship, on her way from 
Charleston to Chesapeake Bay. 

General Washington, unwilling to relinquish the attempt against 
Arnold, repaired to Newport ; and on the 6th of March had a con- 
ference with the French commanders, at which it was agreed that 
the whole fleet should immediately sail to the Chesapeake, with a 
detachment of troops on board; but owing to unforeseen circum- 
stances, it was the evening of the 8th before the fleet left the, har- 
bour. 

Meanwhile, due notice of the expedition was sent to General 
Lafayette, who had just recently been detached from the main 
army by General Washington, to take the command in Virginia, 
with instructions to co-operate with the allies. From this enter- 
prise General Washington entertained sanguine expectations of 



ARNOLD'S DESCENT ON VIRGINIA. 415 

being able lo apprehend Arnold ; and directed Lafayette to grant 
him no terms which would save him from the consequences of 
his crimes. However, the delay in the sailing of the fleet frus- 
trated Washington's design. 

The British admiral, Arbuthnot, having repaired his damages, 
pursued, and on the 16th overtook the French fleet off the capes 
of Virginia. An indecisive engagement ensued, in which each 
party claimed the victory ; but the object of the French expedition 
was defeated, and the fleet returned to Newport. 

It is necessary, here, to revert to what had been passing in 
Virginia, in order to understand the position of affairs in that state, 
at the time of Lafayette's assuming the command. 

Towards the end of October, 1780, General Leslie enterea 
Chesapeake Bay, landed at Portsmouth, and began to fortify him- 
self there with about three thousand men. But on experiencing 
unexpected and increasing difficulties in the Carolinas, Cornwallis 
directed that officer, with his detachment, to proceed to Charleston. 
The invasion of Virginia, however, though interrupted, was not 
relinquished. Sir Henry Clinton resolved to prosecute the war 
with vigour, in that quarter ; and in the end of the year sent the 
infamous Arnold to Chesapeake Bay, with a detachment of sixteen 
hundred men. Arnold, thirsting for plunder, sailed up James 
River, and on the 4th of January, 1781, landed at Westover, one 
hundred and forty miles from the capes^ and twenty-five below 
Richmond. 

Major-general Baron Steuben, who then commanded the Ameri- 
can forces in that part of Virginia, thought the expedition was 
intended to act against Petersburg, situated on the Appomattox, 
which falls into James River, a little above Westover. At that 
place a considerable quantity of stores had been collected for the 
use of the southern army ; and those stores the baron caused his 
feeble body of raw troops, scarcely amounting to three hundred 
men, to remove to a place of greater security. 

At Westover, Arnold landed with the greater part of his troops, 
and marched directly towards Richmond. A few regulars who 
were in that vicinity, and some militia, were ordered to impede 
his progress, but their efforts were ineffectual. Meanwhile, Baron 
Steuben made every exertion to remove the stores from Richmond, 
carrying a part of them across the river, and a part to West Ham, 
at the head of the rapids. 

On the day after landing at Westover, Arnold entered Rich- 
mond, with little opposition. There he halted with five hundred 



41G LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

men, and sent Lieutenant-colonel Simcoe forward with other five 
hundred to West Ham, where he burned and destroyed a valuable 
foundery, a boring mill, a powder magazine, and a considerable 
quantity of military stores. Colonel Simcoe returned to Rich- 
mond, where the public property and a large quantity of rum 
and salt belonging to individuals were destroyed. After com- 
pleting the w^ork of destruction at Richmond, Arnold returned to 
Westover on the 7th ; and after some skirmishing, re-embarked 
on the 10th, sailed down the river destroying the property on his 
way, and on the 20th arrived at Portsmouth, where he manifested 
an intention of establishing a permanent post. In this expedition, 
Arnold, while he destroyed a large quantity of military stores and 
other valuable property, stated his loss at only seven men killed 
and twenty-three wounded. 

Baron Steuben being in no condition to attack Arnold at Ports- 
mouth, was careful to station his troops at the most convenient 
passes leading from that place into the country, in order to afford 
the inhabitants all the protection in his power. It was while 
Arnold lay at Portsmouth, that General Washington formed the 
plan of apprehending him, which failed through the backwardness 
of the French to engage in it. 

As Arnold's force was not sufficient to make any deep and per- 
manent impression on the powerful state of Virginia, the British 
commander-in-chief resolved to increase it ; and for that purpose, 
about the middle of March, sent General Philips with two thousand 
chosen men from New York to Chesapeake bay. General Philips 
arrived at Portsmouth on the 26th ; and being the superior officer, 
took the command of the army in Virginia. 

After employing some time in completing the fortifications of 
Portsmouth, General Philips began offensive operations, with a 
force much superior to what Congress could oppose to him in that 
part of the country. On the l8th of April, he embarked twenty- 
five hundred men on board his smaller vessels, and sailed up James 
River, in order to destroy every thing that had escaped the ravages 
of Arnold. He landed at Burrel's Ferry, and marched to Williams- 
burgh, the former seat of government in Virginia. A small body 
of militia assembled there, retreated on his approach, and he en- 
tered the place without opposition. He sent part through all the 
lower district of that narrow tract of land, which lies between 
James and York rivers, who destroyed all public stores and property 
which fell in their way. He then re-embarked, sailed up the river 
to City Point, where he landed on the 24th, and next day marched 




AR^JOLDS DESCENT ON VlRalVlX. 



53 



ARNOLD'S DESCENT ON VIRGINIA. 419 

to Petersburgh, where he destroyed an immense quantity of tobacco 
and other property, together with the vessels lying in the river. 

Baron Steuben was unable to make any effectual resistance to 
this ruthless work of devastation. The regular troops of the state 
had been sent to reinforce General Greene, and the militia then in 
the field did not much exceed two thousand. Even althousfh the 
whole of that number could have been collected at any one point, 
yet with that kind of force no enterprise of importance could be 
undertaken. To have hazarded a battle with the militia against 
regular troops would only have been to insure defeat, the loss of 
arms, and the consequent discouragement of the country. Baron 
Steuben had the mortification to see the state laid waste, without 
being able to relieve it ; and after some shght skirmishing he re- 
treated to Richmond. 

Arnold was detached to Osbornes, a small village on the south 
side of James River, fifteen miles below Richmond ; while General 
Philips marched to Chesterfield court-house, which had been ap- 
pointed the place of rendezvous for the new levies of Virginia, 
where he destroyed the barracks and the public stores which had 
not been removed. About half-w^ay between Osbornes and Rich- 
mond, a few small armed vessels which had been collected to 
co-operate with the French against Portsmouth, after a slight 
resistance, were scuttled, and set on fire by their crews, who joined 
the militia and retreated. 

On the 20th of April, Philips and Arnold reunited their forces 
near Osbornes, and marched against Manchester, a small tow^n on 
the south bank of James River, opposite Richmond, where, as 
usual, they set fire to the warehouses, and consumed the tobacco 
and other property. 

At this critical and disastrous period in the history of Virginia, 
Lafayette arrived from the northward, to take command of the 
military force in that state. This illustrious friend of America had 
already manifested such a lively zeal for the interests of the Union 
as secured him the entire confidence of Washington, and of the 
Congress. When the attempt was meditated against Arnold at 
Portsmouth, Washington, as we have already seen, had appointed 
Lafayette to command the troops to be employed in that enter- 
prise; but, on the abandonment of the expedition by the naval 
Ibrce of France, he returned from Annapolis in Maryland, where 
he had arrived, and proceeded to the head of Elk River, at which 
place he received General Washington's orders to take the com- 
mand of the troops in Virginia. 



420 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

When Lafayette marched to the southward on the meditated 
enterprise against Arnold, the troops which he commanded were 
drawn chiefly from the northern states ; and, as it was beHeved the 
expedition would be of short duration, they were ill-provided for a 
southern campaign, and had imbibed strong prejudices against the 
climate. When they understood that the duty would be more 
permanent than had at first been expected, numbers of them 
deserted. But, appeahng to their honour, Lafayette at length suc- 
ceeded in inspiring his troops with the resolution of braving every 
danger, and enduring every privation in the cause of their country. 
In order to encourage them, their noble commander, as careless of 
fortune as he was ambitious of fame, borrowed money on his own 
personal credit from the merchants of Baltimore to purchase shoes, 
linen, and other necessaries for his detachment ; and the ladies of 
that city, with patriotic zeal, took charge of immediately making 
the summer clothing of the troops. 

Lafayette arrived at Richmond with his detachment on the 
evening before General Philips entered Manchester ; and, instead 
of attempting to pass the river in the face of that officer, the Brilish 
general marched back to Bermuda Hundreds, a point of land formed 
by the junction of James River and the Appomattox, destroying 
much valuable property on his way. Embarking his army, he 
sailed down the river as far as Hog's Island, where the van of his 
fleet arrived on the 5th of May. 

On the return of the British down the river, Lafayette sent small 
parties to follow them and watch their motions, while he established 
his head-quarters behind the river Chicahominy, at some distance 
from Richmond. On the 7th of May, General Philips received a 
letter from Cornwalhs, informing him of his march into Virginia, 
and mentioning Petersburgh as the place where he expected to 
meet the British troops in that province. General Philips imme- 
diately returned up the river, landed one division at Brandon, while 
another proceeded to City Point ; and on the 9th, those two divi- 
sions met at Petersburgh, where their arrival was so unexpected 
that they took prisoners some of Lafayette's officers, who had been 
sent to that place for the purpose of collecting boats to convey his 
troops across the river. Meanwhile General Philips was seized 
with fever, and was so ill on reaching Petersburgh as to be unable 
to give orders. The progress of his disease was rapid, and he 
died four days afterwards, when the command of the British troops 
devolved on Arnold. 

It will be recollected by the reader, that, after the battle of Guil- 



CORNWALLIS AND LAFAYETTE. 421 

ford Court-house, Cornwallis retreated to Wilmington, where he 
arrived on the 7th of April, 1781. There he remained eighteen 
days, in order to refresh his exhausted troops ; and having resolved, 
after much deliberation, to proceed northward, on the 25th of the 
month he set out on his march into Virginia, a distance of three hun- 
dred miles. In his progress he met with little opposition. Colonel 
Tarleton, with one hundred and eighty cavalry and sixty mounted 
infantry, preceded the army, and dispersed any bodies of militia 
that were assembling to interrupt it. On the 20th of May, Corn- 
wallis reached Petersburgh, and took the command of the British 
troops in Virginia. He felt his force decidedly superior to that 
opposed to him, and exulted in the prospect of success. Under- 
valuing the talents and resources of Lafayette, his young opponent, 
he incautiously wrote to Europe, in a letter which was intercepted, 
<' The boy cannot escape me." 

On being informed that General Philips, in returning up the 
river, had landed at Brandon on the southern bank, and that Corn- 
wallic; was marching northward, Lafayette perceived that a junction 
of their forces was intended ; and suspecting that Petersburgh was 
the appointed place of meeting, he endeavoured to anticipate them 
in the occupation of that town. But the march of General Philips 
was so rapid that he entered it before him, and frustrated his de- 
sign. Lafayette, with his little army, consisting of one thousand 
continentals, two thousand militia, and sixty dragoons, took a posi- 
tion at Richmond, and exerted himself in removing the military 
stores to places of greater security. 

On the 24th of May, Cornwallis left Petersburgh, crossed James 
River at Westover, thirty miles below Lafayette's encampment, and 
being joined by a reinforcement from New York, marched at the 
head of upwards of four thousand veterans towards Richmond. But 
Lafayette evacuated that town on the 27th, and retired towards the 
back country, inclining his march toward the north, so that he might 
easily form a junction with General Wayne, who was hastening to 
reinforce him with eight hundred men of the Pennsylvania line. 
Cornwallis eagerly pursued his retreating foe as far as the upper 
part of Hanover county; but finding it impossible to overtake Lafay- 
ette, or to prevent his junction with General Wayne, he at length 
altered the course of his march, and turned his attention to more 
attainable objects. 

In his progress he destroyed much public property. That of 
individuals also was plundered or consumed, under pretext of cut- 
ting the sinews of war ; so that Virginia, which had long escaped 

2N 



422 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

hostile ravages, now experienced its full share of the public cala- 
mity. Cornwallis took the horses from the stables of private gentle- 
men, formed an efficient cavalry, and mounted many of his infantry ; 
so that he could move considerable detachments with uncommon 
rapidity. 

Being thus provided with the means of rapid marches, he planned 
an expedition against Charlottesville, where the General Assembly 
of Virginia was then sitting, deliberating on the means necessary 
for the prosecution of the war. The Assembly had been sitting 
at Richmond, but on the approach of the British army had 
retired to Charlottesville, which stands on the bank of the Ri- 
vanna, high up the river. At that place were some military stores ; 
but the British prisoners were removed from it and conducted 
towards Pennsylvania. 

The force under Tarleton, in the expedition against Charlottes- 
ville, consisted of one hundred and eighty cavalry and seventy 
mounted infantry of the 23d regiment, and he advanced so rapidly 
towards the place of his destination, that it was by mere accident 
that the inhabitants of Charlottesville heard of his approach before 
he entered the town, and that all the members of the Assembly of 
Virginia were not made prisoners. But Mr. Janiette, a private 
gentleman, observing Tarleton's march, and suspecting his design, 
mounted a fleet -horse, and, by following a short and unfrequented 
road, reached the town two hours before the British cavalry reached 
it. The greater part of the legislative Assembly escaped and re- 
assembled at Staunton, beyond the Blue-Ridge ; only seven of them 
were made prisoners. 

Tarleton destroyerl all the public stores at Charlottesville ; and 
sent Captain McLeod, with a troop of horse, to Mr. Jefferson's 
mansion, three miles farther, in order to apprehend that gentleman 
and some other individuals who were understood to be there, but 
with instructions to commit no depredations. Mr. Jefferson and 
his friends made their escape ; but McLeod punctually obeyed his 
orders ; and, after remaining eighteen hours in the house, left it 
and all it contained uninjured ; conduct as honourable as it was 
rare, especially in Virginia. 

Tarleton having executed his commission at Charlottesville, has- 
tened down the Rivanna to co-operate with Colonel Simcoe, who 
had been sent with a detachment of five hundred men, chiefly 
infantry, in order to surprise Baron Steuben, who was then at Point 
of Fork, formed by the confluence of the Rivanna and Fluvanna, 
the two great branches which constitute James River. He had 



CORNWALLIS AND LAFAYETTE. 423 

upwards of five hundred raw troops and a considerable quantity of 
stores under his protection, and waited for the militia to assemble 
to the south of James River, who had been directed to assemble at 
the Point of Fork. 

Colonel Simcoe's progress had not been so rapid as that of Tarle- 
ton ; but so skilfully had he conducted his march, that though 
Baron Steuben had heard of Tarleton's expedition against Char- 
lottesville, yet he had received no notice of Simcoe's approach to 
his own encampment ; but, as a measure of precaution, he left 
Point of Fork and took a position on the south side of the Fluvanna, 
securing all the boats on the southern bank. Colonel Simcoe's 
detachment unexpectedly appeared, and the baron, mistaking it for 
the van of the British army, retreated precipitately during the night, 
leaving behind him part of the stores, which were next day de- 
stroyed by Colonel Simcoe. The baron did not halt until he was 
thirty miles from Point of Fork. 

In Virginia, the British had committed fearful devastations, and 
had destroyed much valuable property ; but Cornwallis, though at 
the head of a superior army, had gained no important advantage 
over his opponent. He had pushed Lafayette across the Rappa- 
hannock, but was unable to prevent his junction with General Wayne, 
which was accomplished at Racoon Ford, on the 7th of June. 
Lafayette, thus reinforced, immediately repassed the Rappahannock 
and advanced towards the British army. 

In the course of these movements, Cornwallis had got completely 
between Lafayette and the stores of the state, which were deposited 
at different places, but principally at Albemarle Old Court-house, 
high up the Fluvanna, on the south side of the river. These stores 
were an object of much importance to both armies ; and, early in 
June, the British commander, after having dispensed with the ser- 
vices of Arnold, and allowed him to return to New York, directed 
his march to Albemarle Old Court-house. Lafayette was anxious 
to preserve his magazines ; and while the British army was more 
than a day's march from Albemarle Court-house, by a rapid and 
unsuspected movement he suddenly appeared in its vicinity. The 
British general easily penetrated his design, and being between 
him and his magazines, took a position near the road, so that he 
could attack him with advantage if he attempted to advance. 
During the night, however, Lafayette discovered and cleared a 
nearer but long disused road, and passed the British army unob- 
served ; and in the morning, CornwalHs, with surprise and mortifica- 
tion, saw his adversary strongly posted between him and the stores. 



424 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

Perceiving that the Americans could not be attacked unless under 
great disadvantages, and believing their force greater than it really 
was, Cornwallis abandoned his enterprise, and began a retrograde 
movement, and, in his night marches, fell back upwards of fifty 
miles. On the 17th of June, he entered Richmond, but left it on 
the 20th, and continued his route to Williamsburgh, where the 
main body of his army arrived on the 25th. 

The American army followed him at a cautious distance. On 
the 19th, Lafayette was joined by Baron Steuben, with his detach- 
ment, which increased the American army to four thousand men : 
of whom two thousand were regulars, but only fifteen hundred were 
disciplined troops. That of Cornwallis appears to have been some- 
what more numerous, and consisted entirely of veterans : it was 
also provided with a well-mounted body of cavalry, which had 
spread terror and devastation over the country, and greatly intimi- 
dated the militia. 

Though Lafayette kept about twenty miles behind the main body 
of the British army, yet its light parties hung on its rear, and 
skirmishes occasionally ensued. A sharp encounter happened 
near WilUamsburgh between the advanced guard of the Americans, 
under Colonel Butler, and the rear-guard of the British, under 
Colonel Simcoe, in which both suffered considerable loss. Part 
of the British army marched to Colonel Simcoe's assistance, and 
the Americans were obliged to retreat. Although Lafayette en- 
couraged skirmishes and partial conflicts, yet, distrusting his new 
levies and militia, he cautiously avoided a general battle. While 
the British army remained at Williamsburgh, the Americans 
occupied a strong encampment twenty miles from that place. 

During the various movements of the troops in Virginia, property 
to a great amount, both public and private, was destroyed. Among 
other articles, two thousand hogsheads of tobacco were burned : 
individuals suffered severely, and the resources of the state were 
considerably impaired. While the army traversed the country, 
carrying devastation in its train, ships of war sailed up the rivers, 
pillaged the farms, received fugitive negroes, and in some places 
laid the houses in ashes. Early in the spring, a British frigate 
went up the Potomac to General Washington's mansion at Mount 
Vernon, and demanded from the steward a quantity of provisions, 
which was granted in order to save the property. This compliance, 
however, was highly displeasing to Washington, who declared it 
would have been more agreeable to him to have left the enemy to 



CORNWALLIS AND LAFAYETTE. 425 

take what they pleased by force, even at the risk of burning his 
house and property. 

Though the miUtia showed no alacrity in taking the field, and 
though less resistance was made to the royal arms in Virginia than 
had been expected from such a powerful state, yet very little incli- 
nation manifested itself among the people to support the British 
cause. Some loyalists in a remote part of the province were easily 
reduced to unconditional submission by General Morgan, whom iil 
health had obliged to quit the army ; but who, on this occasion, 
put himself at the head of a few mounted riflemen to subdue the 
insurgents. 

For some time after entering Virginia, Cornwallis entertained 
the most flattering hopes of success. He was at the head of an 
army, which no force in that province was able to resist ; and he 
felt no doubt of succeeding against Lafayette. But that young 
officer eluded his most active exertions, frustrated some of his 
schemes, and now hung upon him with an army, which, though 
still inferior, was nevertheless formidable, and continually increasing 
in strength. But new disappointments and more mortifying events 
awaited the British commander. While at Williamsburgh he re- 
ceived a requisition from Sir Henry Clinton for part of the troops 
under his command : the commander-in-chief having discovered 
that an attack was meditated on New York, thought his garrison 
insufficient for the defence of that place, and wished part of the 
troops in Virginia to be sent to his assistance. Cornwallis pre- 
pared to comply with Sir Henry Clinton's requisition ; and 
believing that with the remaining troops he would be unable to 
maintain himself at WiUiamsburgh, he resolved to pass James 
River and retire to Portsmouth. On the 30th June he apprized 
the commander-in-chief of his resolution. 

On the 4th of July the army marched from Williamsburgh, and 
encamped on the bank of James River, so as to cover a ford leading 
into the island of Jamestown. On the 5th and 6th, the baggage 
and some of the troops passed the ford ; but the main body of the 
army kept its ground. 

On the morning of the 5th of July, Lafayette left his encamp- 
ment, crossed the Chicahominy, pushed his light troops near the 
British position, and advanced witii the continentals to make an 
attempt on the British rear, after their main body had passed the 
river. On the afternoon of the 6th, Lafayette was told that the 
main body of the British army had crossed the ford, and that a rear- 
guard only remained behind ; an opinion which the British general 
54 2 n2 



426 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

artfully encouraged by the judicious manner in which he posted 
his troops. General Wayne, imagining that he had to fight a rear- 
guard only, advanced boldly upon the enemy ; but in a short time 
he unexpectedly found himself in presence of the British ai-my 
drawn up to receive him. Instant retreat he considered impracti- 
cable, and thought the boldest course the most safe. With eight 
hundred men he made a brisk attack : and for some minutes the 
conflict was sharp and bloody. But Lafayette, discovering the 
mistake, ordered a retreat, which was made with precipitation, 
leaving two pieces of cannon in the hands of the British. The 
Americans retired behind a morass, and it being nearly dark, Corn- 
wallis, suspecting an ambuscade, ordered no pursuit. In this 
encounter the Americans had one hundred and eighteen men, in- 
cluding ten officers, killed, wounded, or taken prisoners. The loss 
of the British was not so great, amounting to five officers and about 
seventy privates. In the course of the night the British passed into 
the island ; whence they soon afterwards proceeded to Portsmouth. 
The troops required by the British commander-in-chief were 
embarked ; but, before they sailed, despatches arrived counter- 
manding the order. At the same time the commander-in-chief 
deprecated the thought of abandoning the Chesapeake, stating, that 
as soon as the season for military operations in that quarter returned, 
he would probably send thither all the disposable troops under his 
command, and recommending the establishment of a defensive post 
for the reception of ships of the line, either at York, or the river of 
that name, or at Point Comfort in Hampton Road. Cornwallis 
ordered, accordingly, Point Comfort and York to be surveyed by 
engineers and officers of the navy, from whose report it appeared 
that works constructed on Old Point Comfort could neither defend 
the entrance into Hampton Road, nor afford protection to ships 
lying there ; and as it was admitted that Portsmouth was not a 
station of the description required, Cornwallis thought his instruc- 
tions left him no alternative but to fortify York and Gloucester, as 
the only points capable of affording the requisite protection to ships 
of the line. Measures were accordingly taken for seizing and for- 
tifying those places, and for evacuating Portsmouth. Part of the 
army proceeded, in boats and transports, up the Chesapeake and 
York river, and on the 1st of August, took possession of Yorktown 
and Gloucester Point, the former on the south, the latter on the north 
side of the river. The evacuation of Portsmouth was completed ; 
and on the 22d the British force in Virginia concentrated at York 
and Gloucester. 



AID FROM FRANCE. 427 

Here we shall leave Cornwallis and his army diligently for- 
tifying themselves, and turn, for a while, our attention to the north- 
ward. 

In the early part of the year, the affairs of Congress wore a gloomy 
and alarming aspect : the finances were exhausted, the troops 
mutinous, the army much diminished in numbers, and the soldiers 
who remained with the standards of their country were in a state 
of utter destitution. The necessity of a foreign loan and of European 
auxiUaries was obvious ; and an early appUcation for both had been 
made to France. But however well disposed that power was to 
grant the desired assistance, compHance was no easy matter ; for 
the treasury had enough to do in answering the national demands 
necessarily made on it, and was little able to supply foreign wants. 
As a signal proof of friendship, however, the French monarch gave 
his allies a donation of six millions of livres, and promised to sup- 
port them with a strong naval and military armament. 

Early in May, the Count de Barras, who had been appointed to 
the command of the French fleet on the American coast, arrived at 
Boston, accompanied by the Viscount de Rochambeau, commander 
of the land forces. An interview between General Washington 
and the French commanders was immediately appointed to be held 
at Wethersfield, three miles from Hartford, on the 21st, but some 
movements of the British fleet made De Barras repair to Newport, 
while the two generals met at the appointed place, and agreed on 
the plan of the campaign. It was resolved to unite the French 
and American armies on the Hudson, and to commence vigorous 
operations against New York. The regular army at that station 
was estimated at only forty-five hundred men ; and though Sir 
Henry CHnton might be able to reinforce it with five thousand or 
six thousand militia, yet it was believed he could not maintain the 
post without recalling a considerable part of the troops from the 
southward, and enfeebling the operations of the British in that 
quarter ; in which case it was resolved to make a vigorous attack 
on the point which promised the best prospect of success. 

General Washington immediately required the states of New 
England to have six thousand militia in readiness to march, when- 
ever they might be called for ; and sent an account of the con- 
ference at Wethersfield to Congress. His despatch was intercepted 
in the Jerseys and carried to Sir Henry Clinton ; who, alarmed by 
the plan which it disclosed, made the requisition, already men- 
tioned, of part of the troops under Cornwallis, and took diligent 
precaution for maintaining his post against the meditated attack. 



428 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

When the American troops left their winter quarters in the 
month of June, and encamped at Peekskill, the army under Wash- 
ington did not amount to five thousand men. This force was so 
much inferior to what had been contemplated when the plan of 
operations was agreed on at Wethersfield, that it became doubtful 
whether it would be expedient to adhere to that plan. But the 
deficiency of the American force was in some measure compen- 
sated by the arrival at Boston of a reinforcement of fifl;een hundred 
men to the army under Count Rochambeau. 

The hope of terminating the war in the course of the campaign, 
encouraged the states to make some exertions. Small as was their 
military force, it was difficult to find subsistence for their troops ; 
and, even after the array had taken the field, there was reason to 
apprehend that it would be obliged to abandon the objects of the 
campaign for want of provisions. In that critical juncture of Ame- 
rican affairs, when the government was without money and without 
credit, the finances of the Union were intrusted to Mr. Robert 
Morris, a member of Congress from Pennsylvania, a man of con- 
siderable capital, and of much sagacity and mercantile enterprise. 
He extensively pledged his personal credit for articles of the first 
necessity to the army ; and by an honourable fulfilment of his en- 
gagements, did much to restore public credit and confidence. It 
was owing mainly to his exertions that the active and decisive 
operations of the campaign were not greatly impeded, or entirely 
defeated, by want of subsistence to the army, and of the means of 
transporting military stores. 

It was Mr. Morris who planned the national bank of $400,000. 
Its notes were to be received as cash into the treasury of the seve- 
ral states, and also as an equivalent for the necessaries which the 
states were bound to provide for the army. In this way, and by a 
liberal and judicious application of his own resources, an indivi- 
dual afforded the supplies which government was unable to fur- 
nish. 

The French troops marched from Newport and Boston towards 
the Hudson. Both in quarters and on the route their behaviour 
was exemplary, and gained the respect and good will of the inha- 
bitants. Towards the end of June, General Washington put his 
army in motion ; and learning that a royal detachment had passed 
into the Jerseys, he formed a plan to surprise the British posts on 
the north end of York Island ; but it did not succeed ; and Gene- 
ral Lincoln, who commanded the Americans, being attacked by a 
strong British party, a sharp conflict ensued. General Washing- 



POSITION OF THE ARMIES. 429 

ton marched with his main body to support his detachment, but 
on his advance the British retired into their works at Kings- 
bridge. 

Having failed in his design of surprising the British posts, Gene- 
ral Washington withdrew to Valentine's Hill, and afterwards to 
Dobbs's Ferry. While encamped there, on the 6th of July, the van 
of the long-expected French reinforcements was seen winding 
down the neighbouring heights. The arrival of these friendly 
strangers elevated the minds of the Americans, who received them 
with sincere congratulations. General Washington laboured by 
personal attentions to conciliate the good will of his allies, and 
used all the means in his power to prevent those mutual jealousies 
and irritations which frequently prevail between troops of different 
nations, serving in the same army. An attack on New York was 
still meditated, and every exertion made to prepare for its execu- 
tion ; but with the determination, if it should prove impracticable, 
vigorously to prosecute some more attainable object. 

On the evening of the 21st of July, the greater part of the Ame- 
rican, and part of the French troops left their encampment ; and 
marching rapidly during the night, appeared in order of battle be- 
fore the Brhish works at Kingsbridge, at four the next morning. 
Generals Washington and Rochambeau, with the general officers 
and engineers, viewed the British lines, in their whole extent, 
from right to left, and the same was done again next morning. 
But on the afternoon of the 23d they returned to their former 
encampment, without having made any attempt on the British 
works. 

At that time the new levies arrived slowly in the American 
camp ; and many of those who were sent were mere boys, utterly 
unfit for active service. The several states discovered much back- 
w^ardness in complying with the requisitions of Congress, so that 
there was reason to apprehend that the number of troops necessary 
for besieging New York could not be procured. This made Gene- 
ral Washington turn his thoughts more seriously to the southward 
than he had hitherto done : but all his movements confirmed Sir 
Henry Clinton in the belief that an attack on New York was in 
contemplation. As the British commander-in-chief, however, at 
that time, received about three thousand troops from Europe, he 
thought himself able to defend his post, without withdrawing any 
part of the force from Virginia. Therefore he countermanded the 
requisition which he had before sent to Cornwallis for part of the 
troops under his command. The troops were embarked before the 



430 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

arrival of the counter order ; and of their embarkation Lafayette 
sent notice to General Washington. On the reception of new 
instructions, however, as before stated, they were re-landed, and 
remained in Virginia. 

No great operation could be undertaken against the British ar- 
mies, so long as their navy had the undisputed command of the 
coast and of the great navigable rivers. The Americans had ac- 
cordingly made an earnest application to the court of France for 
such a fleet as might be capable of keeping in check the British 
navy in those seas, and of affording effectual assistance to the 
land forces. That application was not unsuccessful, and, to- 
wards the middle of August, the agreeable information was re- 
ceived of the approach of a powerful French lleet to the American 
coast. 

Early in March, the Count de Grasse sailed from Brest with 
twenty-five ships of the line, five of which were destined for the 
East, and twenty for the West Indies. After an indecisive en- 
counter in the Straits of St. Lucie with Sir Samuel Hood, whom 
Sir George Rodney, the British admiral in the West Indies, had 
detached to intercept him, Count de Grasse formed a junction 
with the French vessels on that station, and had a fleet superior to 
that of the British in the West Indies. De Grasse p-ave the Ame- 
ricans notice that he would visit their coast in the month of Au- 
gust, and take his station in Chesapeake Bay ; but that his con- 
tinuance there could only be of short duration. This despatch at 
once determined General Washington's resolution with respect to 
the main point of attack ; and as it was necessary that the pro- 
jected operation should be accomplished within a very limited time, 
prompt decision and indefatigable exertion were indispensable. 
Though it was now finally resolved that Virginia should be the 
scene of action, yet it was prudent to conceal to the last moment 
this determination from Sir Henry Clinton, and still to maintain 
the appearance of threatening New York. 

The defence of the strong posts on the Hudson River was in- 
trusted to General Heath, who was instructed to protect the adja- 
cent country as far as he was able ; and for that purpose a respect 
able force was put under his command. Every preparation of 
which circumstances admitted was made to facilitate the march to 
the southward. General Washington was to take the command 
of the expedition, and to employ in it all the French troops, and a 
strong detachment of the American army. 

On the 19th of August, a considerable force was ordered to 



MARCH INTO VIRGINIA. 431 

cross the Hudson, at Dobbs's Ferry, and take a position between 
Springfield and Chatham, where they were directed to cover some 
bake-houses, which, it was rumoured, were to be immediately con- 
structed in the vicinity of those places, in order to encourage the be- 
lief that there the troops intended to establish a permanent post. On 
the 20th and 21 st, the main body of the Americans passed the river 
at King's Ferry : but the French made a longer circuit, and did 
not complete the passage until the 25th. Desirous of concealing 
his object as long as possible, General Washington continued his 
march some time in such a direction as still to keep up the ap- 
pearance of threatening New York. When concealment was no 
longer practicable, he marched southward with the utmost ce- 
lerity. His movements had been of such a doubtful nature, that 
Sir Henry Chnton, it is said, was not convinced of his real desti- 
nation till he crossed the Delaware. 

Great exertions had been made to procure funds for putting the 
army in motion : but, after exhausting every other means. General 
Washington was obliged to have recourse to Count Rochambeaii 
for a supply of cash, which he received. 

On the 30th of August, at three in the afternoon, the combined 
American and French armies entered Philadelphia, where they 
were received with ringing of bells, firing of guns, bonfires, illumi- 
nations at night, and every demonstration of joy. Meanwhile, 
Count de Grasse, with three thousand troops on board, sailed from 
Cape Francois with a valuable fleet of merchantmen, which he 
conducted out of danger, and then steered for Chesapeake Bay, 
tvith twenty-eight sail of the line and several frigates. 

Towards the end of August, he cast anchor just within the capes, 
extending across from Cape Henry to the middle ground. There 
an officer from Lafayette waited on the count, and gave him full 
information concerning the state of aflfairs in Virginia, and the 
intended plan of operations against the British army in that state. 

CornwalHs was diligently fonifying himself at York and Glou- 
cester. Lafayette was in a position on James River to prevent his 
escape into North Carolina, and the combined army was hastening 
southward to attack him. In order to co-operate against Cornwallis, 
De Grasse detached four ships of the line and some frigates to block 
up the entrance to York River, and to carry the land forces, which 
he had brought with him under St. Simon, to Lafayette's camp. 
The rest of his fleet remained at the entrance of the bay. 

Sir George Rodney, who commanded the British fleet in the 
West Indies, was not ignorant that the count intended to sail for 



432 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

America ; but, knowing that the merchant vessels which he con- 
veyed from Cape Francois were loaded with valuable cargoes, the 
British admiral believed that he would send the greater part of his 
fleet along with them to Europe, and would visit the American coast 
with a small squadron only. Accordingly, Sir George Rodney 
detached Sir Samuel Hood, with fourteen sail of the line to America, 
as a sufficient force to counteract the operations of the French in 
that quarter. Admiral Hood reached the capes of Virginia on the 
25th of August, a few days before De Grasse entered the bay : and, 
finding no enemy there, sailed for Sandy Hook, where he arrived 
on the 28th of August. 

Admiral Graves, who had succeeded Admiral Arbuthnot in the 
command of the British fleet on the American station, was then 
lying at New York with seven sail of the line ; but two of his ships 
had been damaged in a cruise near Boston, and were under repair. 
At the same time that Admiral Hood gave information of the 
expected arrival of De Grasse on the American coast, notice was 
received of the sailing of De Barras with his fleet from Newport. 
Admiral Graves, tlierefore, without waiting for his two ships which 
were under repair, put to sea on the 31st of August, with nineteen 
sail of the line, and steered to the southward. 

On reaching the capes of the Chesapeake, early on the morning 
of the 5th of September, he discovered the French fleet, consisting 
of twenty-four ships of the line, lying at anchor at the entrance of 
the bay. Neither admiral had any previous knowledge of the 
vicinity of the other till the fleets were actually seen. The British 
stretched into the bay, and as soon as De Grasse ascertained their 
hostile character, he ordered his ships to slip their cables, form the 
line as they could come up, without regard to their specified sta- 
tions, and put to sea. The British fleet entering the bay, and the 
French fleet leaving it, they were necessarily sailing in different 
directions ; but Admiral Graves put his ships on the same tack as 
the French ; and about four in the afternoon, a battle began between 
the van and centre of the fleets, which continued till night. Both 
sustained considerable damage. 

The fleets continued in sight of each other for five days ; but De 
Grasse's object was not to fight unless to cover Chesapeake Bay ; 
and Admiral Graves, owing to the inferiority of his force and the 
crippled state of several of his ships, was unable to compel him to 
renew the engagement. 

On the 10th, De Grasse bore away for the Chesapeake, and 
anchored within the capes next day, when he had the satisfaction 



TAKING OF NEW LONDON. 433 

to find that Admiral de Barras with his fleet from Newport and four- 
teen transports, laden with heavy artillery and other military stores 
for carrying on a siege, had safely arrived during his absence. 

That officer sailed from Newport on the 25th of August, and 
making a long circuit to avoid the British, entered the bay, while 
the contending fleets were at sea. Admiral Graves followed the 
French fleet to the Chesapeake ; but on arriving there, he found the 
entrance guarded by a force with which he was unable to contend. 
He then sailed for New York, and left De Grasse in the undisputed 
possession of the bay. 

While these naval operations were going on, the land forces 
were not less actively employed in the prosecution of their respective 
purposes. The immediate aim of the one party was to overwhelm 
CornwalHs and his army at Yorktown, and that of the other to res- 
cue him from their grasp. As soon as Sir Henry Clinton was con- 
vinced of General Washington's intention of proceeding to the 
southward, with a view to bring him back, he employed Arnold, 
with a sufficient naval and military force, on an expedition against 
New London. Arnold passed from Long Island, and on the fore- 
noon of the 6th of September landed his troops on both sides of 
the harbour ; those on the New London side being under his own 
immediate orders, and those on the Groton side commanded by 
Lieutenant-colonel Eyre. As the works at New London were very 
imperfect, no vigorous resistance was made, and the place was 
taken possession of with little loss. But Fort Griswold, on the 
Groton side, was in a more finished state, and the small garrison 
made a desperate defence. The British entered the fort at the 
point of the bayonet ; when, though opposition had ceased, a mur- 
derous carnage ensued. Few Americans had fallen before the 
British entered the works ; but eighty-five were killed, sixty 
wounded, most of them mortally, and the remainder, seventy in 
number, were made prisoners. The loss of the British was consi- 
derable. A great quantity of valuable property was destroyed and 
the town much injured. 

The loss sustained by the Americans at New London was great ; 
but that predatory excursion had no effect in diverting General 
Washington from his purpose, or in retarding his march southward. 
From Philadelphia the allied armies pursued their route, partly to 
the head of Elk River, which falls into the northern extremity of 
Chesapeake Bay, and partly to Baltimore, at which places they 
embarked on board transports furnished by the French fleet, and 
the last division of them landed at Williamsburg, on the 25th of 
55 2 



434 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

September, General Washington, Rochambeau, and their attend- 
ants, proceeded to the same place by land, and reached it ten days 
before the troops. Virginia had suffered extremely in the course 
of the campaign ; the inhabitants were clamorous for the appear- 
ance of the commander-in-chief in his native state, and hailed his 
arrival with acclamations of joy. 

Generals Washington and Rochambeau immediately repaired on 
board De Grasse's ship, in order to concert a joint plan of operations 
against Cornwallis. De Grasse, convinced that every exertion 
would be made to relieve his lordship, and being told that Admiral 
Digby had arrived at New York with a reinforcement of six ships 
of the line, expected to be attacked by a force little inferior to his 
own; and deeming the station which he then occupied unfavour- 
able to a naval engagement, he was strongly inclined to leave the 
bay, and to meet the enemy in the open sea. 

General Washington, fully aware of all the casualties which might 
occur to prevent his return, and to defeat the previous arrangements, 
used every argument to dissuade the French admiral from his pur- 
pose, and prevailed with him to remain in the bay. 

As De Grasse could continue only a short time on that station, 
every exertion was made to proceed against Cornwallis at York- 
town, a small village on the southern bank of York River, in 
which ships of the line can ride with perfect safety. A long pen- 
insular tract of land, only eight miles broad, lies between James 
and York rivers. Opposite Yorktown is Gloucester Point, which 
projects considerably into the river, the breadth of which at that 
place does not exceed a mile. Cornwallis had taken possession 
of both these places, and diligently fortified them. The communi- 
cation between them was commanded by his batteries, and by 
some ships of war which lay in the river under cover of his guns. 
The main body of his army was encamped near Yorktown, beyond 
some outer redoubts and field-works, calculated to retard the ap- 
proach of an enemy. Colonel Tarleton, with six hundred or seven 
hundred men, occupied Gloucester Point. 

The combined army, amounting to upwards of eleven thousand 
men, exclusive of the Virginia miliiia, was assembled in the vici- 
Jiity of Williamsburgh ; and, on the morning of the 28th of Sep- 
tember, marched by different routes towards Yorktown. About 
raid-day, tlie heads of the columns reached the ground assigned 
them ; and, after driving in the outposts and some cavalry, 
encam{)ed for the night. The next day was employed in viewing 
he British works, and in arranging the plan of attack. At the 



INVESTMENT OF YORKTOWN. 437 

same time that the combined army encamped before Yorktown, the 
French fleet anchored at the mouth of the river, and completely 
prevented the British from escaping by water, as well as from re- 
ceiving supplies or reinforcements in that way. The legion of 
Lauzun and a brigade of militia, amounting to upwards of four 
thousand men, commanded by the French general De Choisie, were 
sent across the river to watch Gloucester Point, and to enclose the 
British on that side. 

On the 30th, Yorktown was invested. The French troops formed 
the left wing of the combined array, extending from the river above 
the town to a morass in front of it ; the Americans composed the 
right wing, and occupied the ground between the morass and the 
river below the town. Till the 6th of October, the besieging army 
was assiduously employed in disembarking its heavy artillery and 
military stores, and in conveying them to camp from the landing 
place in James River, a distance of six miles. 

On the night of the 6th, the first parallel was begun, six hundred 
yards from the British works. The night was dark, rainy, and 
well adapted for such a service ; and in the course of it the 
besiegers did not lose a man. Their operations seem not to have 
been suspected by the besieged till daylight disclosed them in the 
morning, when the trenches were so far advanced as in a good 
measure to cover the workmen from the fire of the garrison. By 
the afternoon of the 9th, the batteries were completed, notwith- 
standing the most strenuous opposition from the besieged ; and im- 
mediately opened on the town. From that time an incessant can- 
nonade was kept up ; and the continual discharge of shot and 
shells from twenty-four and eighteen-pounders, and ten-inch mor- 
tars, damaged the unfinished works on the left of the town, silenced 
the guns mounted on them, and occasioned a considerable loss of 
men. Some of the shot and shells from the batteries passed over 
the town, reached the shipping in the harbour, and set on fire the 
Charon of forty-four guns, and three large transports, which were 
entirely consumed.* 

The succeeding operations of the siege are very graphically 
described by Dr. Thatcher, one of the surgeons of the army, in the 
following extract from his Military Journal : — 

" The duty of our troops has been for several days extremely 
severe ; our regiment labours in the trenches every other day and 
night, where I find it difficult to avoid suflTering by the cold, having 
no other covering than a single blanket in an open field. We 

* Western World. 

2o2 



438 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

erected a battery last night in front of our first parallel, without any 
annoyance from the enemy. Two or three of our batteries being 
now prepared to open on the town, his excellency General 
Washington put the match to the first gun, and a furious discharge 
of cannon and mortars immediately followed, and Earl Cornwallis 
has received his first salutation. 

" From the 10th to the 15th, a tremendous and incessant firing 
from the American and French batteries is kept up, and the enemy 
return the fire, but with little effect. A red-hot shell from the 
French battery set fire to the Charon, a British 44 gun ship, and 
two or three smaller vessels at anchor in the river, which were con- 
sumed in the night. From the bank of the river, I had a fine view 
of this splendid conflagration. The ships were enwrapped in a 
torrent of fire, which spreading with vivid brightness among the 
combustible rigging, and running with amazing rapidity to the 
tops of the several masts, while all around was thunder and light- 
ning from our numerous cannon and mortars, and in the darkness 
of the night, presented one of the most sublime and magnificent 
spectacles which can be imagined. Some of our shells, overreach- 
ing the town, are seen to fall into the river, and bursting, throw up 
columns of water like the spoutings of the monsters of the deep. 
We have now made further approaches to the town, by throwing up 
a second parallel line and batteries wuthin about three hundred 
yards ; this was effected in the night, and at daylight the enemy 
were roused to the greatest exertions, the engines of war have 
raged with redoubled fury and destruction on both sides, no cessa- 
tion day or night. The French had two officers wounded, and 
fifteen men killed or wounded, and among the Americans two or 
three were wounded. I assisted in amputating a man's thigh. 
The siege is daily becoming more and more formidable and alarm- 
ing, and his lordship must view his situation as extremely critical, 
if not desperate. Being in the trenches every other day and night, 
I have a fine opportunity of witnessing the sublime and stupendous 
scene which is continually exhibiting. The bomb-shells from the 
besiegers and the besieged are incessantly crossing each other's 
path in the air. They are clearly visible in the form of a black 
ball in the day ; but in the night, they appear like fiery meteors 
with blazing tails, most beautifully brilliant, ascending majesti- 
cally from the mortar to a certain altitude, and gradually descend- 
ing to the spot where they are destined to execute their work of 
destruction. It is astonishing with what accuracy an experienced 
gunner will make his calculations, that a shell shall fall within a 



SIEGE OF YORKTOWN. 439 

few feet of a given point, and burst at the precise time, though at 
a great distance. When a shell falls, it whirls round, burrows, 
and excavates the earth to a considerable extent, and bursting, 
makes dreadful havoc around. 

"I have more than once witnessed fragments of the mangled 
bodies and limbs of the British soldiers thrown into the air by the 
bursting of our shells ; and by one from the enemy. Captain White, 
of the seventh Massachusetts regiment, and one soldier were killed, 
and another wounded near where I was standing. About twelve 
or fourteen men have been killed or wounded within twenty-four 
hours ; I attended at the hospital, amputated a man's arm, and 
assisted in dressing a number of wounds. The enemy having two 
redoubts about three hundred yards in front of their principal 
works, enfiladed our entrenchment and impeded our approaches ; 
it was resolved to take possession of them both by assault. The 
one on the left of the British garrison, bordering on the banks of the 
river, was assigned to our brigade of light infantry, under the com- 
mand of the Marquis de Lafayette. The advanced corps was led 
on by the intrepid Colonel Hamilton, who had commanded a regi- 
ment of light infantry during the campaign, and assisted by Colonel 
Gimat. The assault commenced at eight o'clock in the evening, 
and the assailants bravely entered the fort with the point of the 
bayonet without firing a single gun. We suffered the loss of eight 
men killed, and about thirty wounded, among whom Colonel 
Gimat received a slight wound in his foot, and Major Gibbs, of 
his excellency's guard, and two other officers, were slightly 
wounded. Major Campbell, who commanded in the fort, was 
wounded and taken pri.>oner, with about thirty soldiers ; the re- 
mainder made their escape. I was desired to visit the wounded 
in the fort, even before their balls had ceased whistling about my 
ears, and saw a sergeant and eight men dead in the ditch. A 
captain of our infantry, belonging to New Hampshire, threatened 
to take the life of Major Campbell to avenge the death of his 
favourite. Colonel Scammel ; but Colonel Hamilton interposed, and 
not a man was killed after he had ceased to resist. During the 
assault, the British kept up an incessant firing of cannon and mus- 
ketry from their whole line. 

" His excellency General Washington, Generals Lincoln and 
Knox, with their aids, having dismounted, were standing in an 
exposed situation, waiting the result. Colonel Cobb, one of Gene- 
ral Washington's aids, solicitous for his safety, said to his excel- 
lency, ' Sir, you are too much exposed here, had you not better 



I 



440 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

step a little back ?' < Colonel Cobb,' replied his excellency, 
' if you are afraid, you have liberty to step back.' The other 
redoubt, on the right of the British lines, was assaulted at the 
same time by a detachment of the French, commanded by the gal- 
lant Baron de Viominel. Such was the ardour displayed by the 
assailants, that all resistance was soon overcome, though at the 
expense of nearly one hundred men killed and wounded. Of the 
defenders of the redoubt, eighteen were killed, and one captain 
and two subaltern officers, and forty-two rank and file, captured. 
Our second parallel line was immediately connected with the two 
redoubts now taken from the enemy, and some new batteries were 
thrown up in front of our second parallel line, with a covert way 
and angling work, approaching to less than three hundred yards 
of their principal forts. These will soon be mantled with cannon 
and mortars, and when their horrid thundering commences, it 
must convince his lordship, that his post is not invincible, and 
that submission must soon be his only alternative. Our artillery- 
men, by the exactness of their aim, make every discharge take 
effect, so that many of the enemy's guns are entirely silenced, 
and their works are almost in ruins. 

" 16th. — A party of the enemy, consisting of about four hundred 
men, commanded by Colonel Abercrombie, about four in the 
morning, made a vigorous sortie against two unfinished redoubts 
occupied by the French. They spiked up seven or eight pieces 
of cannon, and killed several soldiers ; but the French advanced 
and drove them from the redoubts, leaving several killed and 
wounded. Our New England troops here have become very 
sickly; the prevalent diseases are intermittent and remittent fevers, 
which are very prevalent in the climate during the autumnal 
months. 

" 17th. — The whole of our works are now mounted with can- 
non and mortars ; not less than one hundred pieces of heavy ord- 
nance have been in continual operation during the last twenty-four 
hours. 

"The whole peninsula trembles under the incessant thunder- 
ings of our infernal machines ; we have levelled some of their 
works in ruins, and silenced their guns ; they have almost ceased 
firing. 

'< We are so near as to have a distinct view of the dreadful 
havoc and destruction of their works, and even see the men in 
their Hnes torn to pieces by the bursting of the shells. But thf 
scene is drawing to a close. Lord Cornwallis, realizing, at length, 




SIEGE OF YORKTOWN. 441 

the extreme hazard of his deplorable situation, and finding it in 
vain any longer to resist, has, this forenoon, come to the humili- 
ating expedient of sending out a flag, requesting a cessation of 
hostilities for twenty-four hours, that commissioners may be ap- 
pointed to prepare and adjust the terms of capitulation. Two or 
three flags passed in the course of the day, and General Washing- 
ton consented to a cessation of hostilities for two hours only, that 
his lordship may suggest his proposals for a treaty, which being in 
part accepted, a suspension of hostilities will be continued until 
to-morrow. 

" 18th. — It is now ascertained that Lord Cornwallis, to avoid 
the necessity of a surrender, had determined on the bold attempt 
to make his escape in the night of the 16th, with a part of his 
army, into the country. His plan was to leave sick and baggage 
behind, and to cross with his effective force over to Gloucester 
Point, there to destroy the French legion and other troops, and to 
mount his infantry on their horses, and such others as might be 
procured, and push their way to New York by land. A more pre- 
posterous and desperate attempt can scarcely be imagined. Boats 
were secretly prepared, arrangements made, and a large proportion 
of his troops actually embarked, and landed on Gloucester Point, 
when, from a moderate and calm evening, a most violent storm of 
wind and rain ensued. The boats with the remaining troops were 
all driven down the river, and it was not till the next day that his 
troops could be returned to the garrison at York. At an early hour 
this forenoon. General Washington communicated to Lord Corn- 
wallis the general basis of the terms of capitulation which he 
deemed admissible, and allowed two hours for his reply. Com- 
missioners were soon after appointed to prepare the particular 
terms of agreement. The gentlemen appointed by General Wash- 
ington are Colonel Laurens, one of his aids-de-camp, and Viscount 
de Noailles, of the French army. They have this day held an in- 
terview with the British officers on the part of Lord Cornwallis ; 
the terms of capitulation are settled ; and being confirmed by the 
commanders of both armies, the royal troops are to march out 
to-morrow and surrender their arms. It is a circumstance deserv- 
ing of remark, that Colonel Laurens, who is stipulating for the sur- 
render of a British nobleman, at the head of a royal army, is the 
son of Mr. Henry Laurens, our ambassador to Holland, who, being 
captured on his voyage, is now in close confinement in the Tower 
of London." 

Cornwallis, on the 19th of October, surrendered the posts of 
56 



442 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

Yorktown and Gloucester Point to the combined armies of Ame- 
rica and France, on condition that his troops should receive the 
same honours of war which had been granted to the garrison of 
Charleston, when it surrendered to Sir Henry Clinton. The army, 
artillery, arms, accoutrements, military chest, and public stores of 
every description, were surrendered to Washington; the ships in 
the harbour, and the seamen, to Count de Grasse. 

Cornwallis wished to obtain permission for his European troops 
to return home, on condition of not serving against America, 
France, or their allies, during the war, but this was refused ; and 
it was agreed that they should remain prisoners of war in Vir- 
ginia, Maryland, and Pennsylvania, accompanied by a due propor- 
tion of officers, for their protection and government. The British 
general was also desirous of securing from punishment such Ameri- 
cans as had joined the royal standard ; but this was refused, on 
the plea that it was a point which belonged to the civil authority, 
and on which the military power was not competent to decide. 
But the end was gained in an indirect way ; for Cornwallis was 
permitted to send the Bonetta sloop of war, unsearched, to New 
York, with despatches to the commander-in-chief, and to put on 
board as many soldiers as he thought proper to be accounted for 
in any subsequent exchange. This was understood to be a tacit 
permission to send off the most obnoxious of the Americans, 
which was accordingly done. 

The officers and soldiers were allowed to retain their private 
property. Such officers as were not required to remain with the 
troops, were permitted to return to Europe, or to reside in any 
part of America not in possession of British troops. A consider- 
able number of negro slaves had fled from their masters, and gone 
over to the royal army : these the Americans resolved to recover ; 
but deeming it indecorous to demand the restitution of slaves, 
while they themselves were fighting for liberty, they expressed 
their claim in general language, and stipulated that any property 
obviously belonging to the inhabitants of the states should be sub- 
ject to be reclaimed. The garrison marched out of the town with 
colours cased, and with the drums beating a British or German 
march. General Lincoln was appointed to receive the surrender, 
in precisely the same way in which his own had been received at 
Charleston. Exclusive of seamen, nearly seven thousand persons 
surrendered, about four thousand of whom were fit for duty. Dur- 
ing the siege, the garrison lost, in killed, wounded, and missing, 
five hundred and fifty-two men. 





i 




m 



SURRENDER OF CORNWALLIS. 445 

By the surrender of the posts of Yorktown and Gloucester 
Point) the Americans gained possession of a large train of artil- 
lery, consisting of seventy-five brass, and sixty-nine iron cannon, 
howitzers and mortars, with a considerable quantity of arms, 
ammunition, military stores, and provisions. One frigate, two 
ships, of twenty guns each, a number of transports, and other 
vessels, and fifteen hundred and one seamen, surrendered to Count 
de Grasse, his most Christian majesty's admiral. The combined 
army at Yorktown may be estimated at sixteen thousand men ; 
consisting of seven thousand French, five thousand five hundred 
continentals, and three thousand five hundred militia. Their 
loss during the siege amounted to about three hundred killed and 
wounded. 

General Washington felt all the importance of the conquest 
which he had achieved. His troops had displayed indefatigable 
industry, joined with much bravery ; and, in general orders of the 
20th, he acknowledged their merits, thanking all the officers and 
men for their services. The engineers and artillery-men had par- 
ticularly distinguished themselves, and were mentioned in terms 
of high commendation. The general offered his best acknow- 
ledgments to Count de Rochambeau and his officers and men ; 
the important co-operation of Count de Grassewas also duly ap- 
preciated. The capture of Cornwallis and his army raised the 
shout of triumph and joy throughout America, particularly in Vir- 
ginia : it was like the exultation of a pastoral people over the 
death of a lion which had cruelly ravaged their flocks, and spread 
terror through their dwellings. 

The attack on Cornwallis was conceived in the true spirit of 
military enterprise ; but a concurrence of many favourable circum- 
stances was necessary in order to its successful execution. It was 
a combined effort by sea and land, carried on by different leaders, 
and liable to the uncertainty of winds and waves. Superiority by 
sea was indispensably requisite ; and the whole scheme was endan- 
gered by the appearance of Admiral Hood, at Chesapeake Bay. 
The arrival of De Barras, the return of De Grasse after his encounter 
with Admiral Hood, all combined against the British, who, after 
behaving like brave men, were compelled to surrender themselves 
prisoners of war. 

Sir Henry Chnton was not ignorant of the perilous situation of 
Cornwallis, and v/as anxious to relieve him ; but the fleet had sus- 
tained considerable damage in the battle with De Grasse, and some 
time was necessarily spent in repairing it. During that interval 

2P 



446 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

four ships of the line arrived from Europe, and two from the West 
Indies. At length, the commander-in-chief embarked with seven 
thousand of his best troops, but was unable to sail from Sandy- 
Hook till the 19th, the day on which Cornwallis surrendered. The 
fleet, consisting of twenty-five ships of the line, two vessels of fifty- 
guns each, and eight frigates, arrived off the Chesapeake on the 
24th, when the commander-in-chief had the mortification to be 
informed of the event of the I9th. 

He remained on the coast, however, till the 29th, when every 
doubt being removed concerning the capitulation of Cornwallis, 
whose reUef was the sole object of the expedition, he returned to 
New York. 

While Sir Henry Clinton continued off the Chesapeake, the 
French fleet, consisting of thirty-six sail of the line, satisfied with 
the advantage already gained, lay at anchor in the bay without 
making any movement whatever. The grand error of the British, 
in the whole of this transaction, was the not sending a larger fleet 
from the West Indies than that which sailed under Admiral Hood. 

Washington used all his influence to detain Count de Grasse 
some time longer on the coast, to assist in the reduction of Charles- 
ton ; but the orders of his court, ulterior projects, and his engage- 
ments with the Spaniards, put it out of the power of the French 
admiral to continue so long in America as was required. He, 
however, remained some days in the bay, in order to cover the em- 
barkation of the troops and of the ordnance to be conveyed by water 
to the her.d of the Elk. Some brigades proceeded by land to join 
their companions at that place. Some cavalry marched to join 
General Greene ; bat the French troops, under Count de Rocham- 
beau, remained in Virginia, to be in readiness to march to the south 
or north, as the circumstances of the next campaign might require. 
On the 27th, the troops of St. Simon began to embark, in order to 
return to the West Indies; and early in November, Count de Grasse 
sailed for that quarter. Washington proceeded to Philadelphia, 
where he arrived on the 27th of November. 

The capture of Cornwallis was the most decisive event of the 
war. The military operations in America were afterwards desul- 
tory and languid ; few in number, and unimportant in their nature; 
injurious or fatal, indeed, to individuals, but of little pubUc advan- 
tage or loss to either of the contending parties. 

While Washington was marching against Cornwallis, the loyal- 
ists of North Carolina, under McNeill and McDougall, made them- 
selves masters of Hillsborough, and took a number of prisoners. 




EFFECT OF THE SURRENDER. 447 

McNeill and some of his followers were killed in an encounter with 
the Americans. McDougall was pursued, but effected his escape 
with a number of prisoners to Wilmington. 

Late in October, Major Ross made an incursion into the country 
on the Mohawk at the head of five hundred men, regulars, rangers, 
and Indians. Colonel Willett, with about an equal force, found him 
at Johnstown. An engagement ensued, when part of the Americans 
fled without any apparent cause ; but as the rest maintained their 
ground, the British retreated. Willett, with a select party, pursued 
them; and on the morning of the 30th, overtook their rear at a ford 
on Canada Creek. He immediately attacked them, killed a num- 
ber, and put the rest to flight. Among the slain was Walter Butler, 
who perpetrated the massacre at Cherry Valley. He asked quarter, 
but was reminded of Cherry Valley and instantly despatched. 

The convention of Saratoga was a severe blow to the British 
arms ; but the surrender of Cornwallis at Yorktown was still more 
decisive. It produced a great change in America, and gave a new 
and more cheering aspect to the affairs of the Union. In the early 
part of the year, the cause of the States was in a drooping condi- 
tion, and American freedom seemed verging to ruin. Congress 
was surrounded with embarrassments, and victory had fled from 
their standards. The success of Morgan at the Cowpens, and the 
exertions of Greene, dissipated the gloom in the south ; but in the 
middle and northern provinces nothing had occurred to awaken 
hope and stimulate exertion. The capture, there fore, of Cornwallis 
and his army, which was achieved by a remarkable coincidence of 
good conduct and fortunate circumstances, altered the face of things. 
Congress, the state governments, and all classes of people, exulted 
with joy. A brighter sun shone on their heads, elevated their hopes, 
and invigorated their exertions. The clamours of the discontented 
were silenced, the hearts of the desponding re-animated, and the 
wavering confirmed in their attachment to the Union. A new im- 
pulse was given to the public mind ; but, above all, the ray of 
peace, which seemed now to burst through the gloom of war, was 
grateful to their souls. 

If the effects of the surrender at Yorktown were great in Ame-- 
rica, they were not less so in Europe. The government and people 
of Britain entertained the most sanguine hopes from the operations 
of the army in Virginia. The expense of the war was heavy, and 
every year increasing. The people murmured under the load ; but 
were encouraged to bear with patience in the hope of being soon 
relieved, and ultimately reimbursed by the exclusive trade of the 



448 



LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 



subjugated provinces. Many flattered themselves that the cam- 
paign in Virginia would annihilate the power of Congress, and put 
an end to the contest. 

In the midst of these fond anticipations, the news of the surren- 
der at Yorktown arrived, and struck both the ministry and people 
with amazement and dismay. The blow was equally severe and 
unexpected. It laid their towering hopes in the dust, and filled 
them with painful apprehensions. 

Parliament met on the 27th of November ; and after a protracted 
struggle in the House of Commons, on the 27th of February, the 
opposition carried an address against the prolongation of the war 
in America. Previous to this, Mr. Henry Laurens, the American 
ambassador to Holland, who had been captured by the British and 
confined in the Tower of London, was released. 




LAFAYETTE RETURNS TO FRANCE. 



449 




OENKRiL GREENE. 



CHAPTER XX. 



lege if it|j« OTfflir. 

HE surrender of Cornwallis, although it 
was the event which ultimately decided 
the fate of the war, was not so consi- 
dered at the time. Washington fully 
expected another campaign, and ac- 
cordingly urged upon Congress the ne- 
cessary preparations for rendering it an 
active and decisive one. The military 
establishment was, therefore, kept up ; 
the states were called upon to com- 
plete their quotas of troops, money and supplies were voted, and 
Washington was directed to address circular letters to the go- 
vernors of all the states, calling for money and troops, and reporting 
the actual condition of the army. 

xifter the glorious victory at Yorktown, Lafayette, believing the 

favourable termination of the war to be certain, obtained permission 

from Congress to revisit France. He bore to his native country 

ample testimonials of his services from Congress, and a letter to 

57 2 p 2 




450 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

the king of France, commending him warmly to the favour of his 
sovereign. 

On returning to the camp at Newburg in April, General Wash- 
ington became acquainted with one of those painful incidents which 
result from the infuriated passions engendered by civil commotions. 
It was reported that on the 24th of March, Captain Huddy, who 
commanded the troops in a block-house in Monmouth county. New 
Jersey, was attacked, overpowered, and made prisoner, by a party 
of loyalists from New York. In a few days, he was taken out of 
the city by a party of refugees, led by Captain Lippincot, and 
hanged, with a label on his breast, declaring that he was put to 
death in retaliation for some of their brethren who had suffered a 
similar fate. Washington took up the matter seriously ; submitted 
it to his officers, laid it before Congress, and wrote to the Bri- 
tish general, demanding the surrender of Captain Lippincot, and 
threatening retaliation in case of refusal. This demand not being 
complied with, Washington ordered a British prisoner, of equal 
rank with Huddy, to be chosen by lot and sent to Philadelphia, 
that he might suffer as a retaliatory victim. 

The lot fell on Captain Asgill, an English youth, of only nineteen 
years of age, and respectably connected. Great interest was made 
to save the life of this young gentleman ; he was ultimately set free, 
but was long kept in a state of painful suspense. 

During winter, the states laboured to prepare for another cam- 
paign ; but, owing to the exhaustion of the country, and the back- 
wardness of the people to make further sacrifices, the preparations 
went on slowly. Every one wished to devolve the burden on his 
neighbour, and every state seemed afraid of bearing more than its 
share of the war. Notwithstanding the late success in the southern 
states, and the brilliant issue of the campaign in Virginia, there 
was much disinclination to vigorous exertions. The troops were 
few in number, and almost destitute of supplies. Many of them 
were almost naked, and nearly all were ill-fed. Every department 
was without money, and without credit. Discontent was general 
among the officers and soldiers, and severe measures were neces- 
sary to check a mutinous spirit in the army. Fortunately for 
America, while the resources of Congress were exhausted and 
every thing was hastening to ruin, the people of Britain also had 
become weary of the war, and it was found expedient to change 
the ministry. The new servants of the crown did not inherit the 
military propensities of their predecessors, but were inclined to 
conciliation and peace. 



SIR GUY CARLETON APPOINTED. 451 

The discontents in the army at this period of inaction and ex- 
haustion, led to a secret combination among several of the officers, 
who imputed the defective administration of the national affairs to 
some weakness which they supposed to be inherent in republican 
institutions. They even went so far as to appoint one of their 
number to write a private letter to Washington, proposing to place 
him at the head of affairs with the title of King. That such a pro- 
position might have been carried out successfully through the 
agency of the army, is rendered probable by the result of almost 
every attempt of a similar nature w^hich history records. But it 
was repelled by Washington with the strongest expressions of 
abhorrence ; and its authors were reprehended in the severest 
style, in the reply which he made to the letter of the officer who 
had acted as the organ of the malecontents. His stern rebuke 
for ever silenced the aspirations of the friends of royalty in the 
army. 

One of the last acts of the late administration was to appoint Sir 
Guy Carleton, afterwards Lord Dorchester, commander-in-chief 
in America, in the room of Sir Henry Clinton ; and the new 
ministry continued him in that high office. He took the command 
at New York early in May ; and being also, in conjunction with 
Admiral Digby, appointed a commissioner to negotiate a peace, he 
soon communicated to Washington copies of the votes of pailia- 
ment respecting peace ; and also a bill which had been introduced 
by the ministry to authorize his majesty to conclude a peace with 
the colonies of North America; and if they were met with a cor- 
responding temper, both inclination and duty would lead him to 
act in the spirit of conciliation. He had addressed to Congress, 
he said, a letter containing the same communication ; and he re- 
quested of Washingioa a passport for the person who was to 
deliver it. 

Washington immediately forwarded the communications to Con- 
gress ; but as the bill to enable the king to conclude peace with 
America had not then passed into a law ; and as there was no as- 
surance that the present commissioners w^ere empow^ered to offer 
any other terms than those which were already rejected, as Con- 
gress was suspicious that the offers were merely intended to amuse 
and put them off their guard, that they might be successfully 
attacked when reposing in security ; aad as they were resolved to 
enter into no separate treat}', the passport was refused. Both 
armies, therefore, lay inactive. There was no peace, and there 
was no war. Sir Guy Carleton undertook no offensive operation i 



452 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

and the army of Washington was too feeble to attack New York. 
On the Hudson, the summer passed away in inactivity. 

Early in August, Washington received a letter from Sir Guy 
Carleton and Admiral Digby, informing him that negotiations for a 
general peace were begun at Paris ; that the independence of the 
thirteen United States would be acknowledged ; and that Mr. 
Laurens was set at liberty ; and that passports were preparing for 
such Americans as had hitherto been detained prisoners in Great 
Britain. This letter was soon followed by another from Sir Guy 
Carleton, in which he declared that he no longer sav any object 
of contest, and therefore disapproved of the continuance of hostili- 
ties either by sea or land, as tending to increase the miseries of 
individuals, without any public advantage to either party. He 
added, that in consequence of this opinion, he had restrained the 
practice of detaching Indian parties against the frontiers of the 
United States, and had recalled those who were in the field. These 
communications seem to have awakened the jealousy of the French 
minister in America ; and, in order to allay his suspicions, Con- 
gress renewed its resolution not to enter into any discussion for a 
pacification but in concert with his most Christian majesty.* 

In July, the French army in Virginia marched northward, and 
reached the states of New England in October. The Marquis de 
Vaudreuil had been despatched with a fleet of fifteen sail of the 
line, and arrived at Boston on the 10th of August, for the purpose 
of transporting them to the West Indies. The troops sailed from 
Boston in December, after having remained in this country two 
years and a half 

Negotiations for a general peace were going on in Paris, but 
were protracted by the mutual jealousies and interfering claims of 
the several parties interested. Great Britain admitted the inde- 
pendence of the thirteen United States, and thus removed a great 
cause of the war ; but the boundaries of the states, and their share 
in the fisheries on the banks of Newfoundland, were not so easily 
adjusted, and on both of these, France and Spain seemed unfavour- 
able to the wishes of America. 

After a tedious and intricate negotiation, in which the firmness, 
judgment, and penetration of the American commissioners were 
exercised, preliminary articles of peace w^ere signed on the 30th 
of November; and news of the conclusion of a general peace 
reached the United States early next April. 

A line running through the middle of the great lakes and their 
* Western World. 



COMPLAINTS OF THE ARMY. 453 

connecting waters, and from a certain point on the St. Lawrence 
to the bottom of the Bay of Fundy, was agreed to as the northern 
boundary of the states ; and their western frontiers was to rest on 
the Mississippi. It was stipulated that the British creditors should 
be allowed to recover their debts in the United States ; that Con- 
gress should recommend to the several states the restoration of the 
estates of the real British subjects which had been confiscated 
during the war ; and that no further confiscation should be made. 

Meantime the army under General Washington remained at New- 
burg, which continued to be the head-quarters till it was disbanded.. 
During this season of inaction, the officers and soldiers had leisure 
to reflect on the heartless manner in which their just claims for 
compensation had been sHghted by Congress ; and on the bad 
prospect they had of experiencing any better treatment when the 
restoration of peace should render their further services unneces- 
sary. 

In December, soon after going into winter quarters, the officers 
had presented a petition to Congress respecting the money actually 
due to them, and proposing a commutation of the half-pay stipu- 
lated by the resolutions of October, 1780, for a sum in gross, which 
they flattered themselves would encounter fewer prejudices than 
the half-pay establishment. Some security that the engagements 
of the government would be complied with was also requested. A 
committee of officers was deputed to solicit the attention of Con- 
gress to this memorial, and to attend to its progress through the 
house. 

There were members of Congress who were anxious to do jus- 
tice to the army ; but there were others who regarded it with jea- 
lousy and fear ; and were perfectly willing to evade its claims by 
any means in their power. Congress was also in a divided state 
with regard to the disposition of the whole public debt, some mem- 
bers desiring to have them funded on solid continental security, 
while others preferred the state system. 

In consequence of these divisions, the business of the army 
advanced slowly, and the question respecting the commutation of 
their half-pay remained undecided, when the intelligence was re- 
ceived (March, 1783) of the signature of the preliminary and 
eventual articles of peace between the United States and Great 
Britain. 

The army, soured and exasperated by neglect and injustice, mani- 
fested an uneasy temper which might easily be wrought into fearful 
activity. Early in March, a letter was received from the com- 



454 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

mittee in Philadelphia, showing that the objects which they soli- 
cited had not been obtained. This occasioned a meeting of the 
officers on the 10th of March, " to consider the late letter from 
their representatives in Philadelphia, and what measures (if any) 
should be adopted to obtain that redress of grievances which they 
seemed to have solicited in vain." 

On the same day an address to the army was privately circu- 
lated, which was intended to rouse the discontented spirits into 
open rebellion against the government. It was in the following 
terms : — 

" TO THE OFFICERS OF THE ARMV. 

"Gentlemen, — A fellow-soldier, whose interests and affections 
bind him strongly to you, whose past sufferings have been as great, 
and whose future fortunes may be as desperate as yours, would 
beg leave to address you. Age has its claims, and rank is not 
without its pretensions to advise ; but though unsupported by both, 
he flatters himself that the plain language of sincerity and expe- 
rience will neither be unheard nor unregarded. 

" Like many of you, he loved private life, and left it with regret. 
He left it, determined to retire from the field, wdth the necessity 
that called him to it, and not till then — not till the enemies of his 
country, the slaves of power, and the hirelings of injustice, were 
compelled to acknowledge America as terrible in arms as she had 
been humble in remonstrance. With this object in view, he has 
long shared in your toils and mingled in your danger. He has felt 
the cold hand of poverty without a murmur, and has seen the inso- 
lence of wealth without a sigh. But, too much under the direction 
of his wishes, and sometimes weak enough to mistake desire for 
opinion, he has till lately, very lately, believed in the justice of his 
country. He hoped that, as the clouds of adversity scattered, and 
as the sunshine of peace and better fortune broke in upon us, the 
coldness and severity of government would relax, and that more 
than justice, that gratitude, would blaze forth upon those hands 
which had upheld her in the darkest stages of her passage from 
impending servitude to acknowledged independence. But faith 
has its limits as well as temper ; and there are points, beyond 
which neither can be stretched without sinking into cowardice or 
pliinging into credulity. This, my friends, I conceive to be your 
situation. Hurried to the very verge of both, another step would 
ruin YOU for ever. To be tame, or unprovoked when injuries press 
upon you, is more than weakness ; but to look up for kinder usage, 



COMPLAINTS OF THE ARMY. 455 

without one manly effort of your own, would fix your character, 
and show the world how richly you deserve the chains you broke. 
To guard against this evil, let us take a review of the ground upon 
which we now stand, and from thence carry our thoughts forward 
for a moment into the unexplored field of expedient. 

" After a pursuit of seven long years, the object for which we 
set out is at length brought within our reach. Yes, my friends, 
that suffering courage of yours was active once — it has conducted 
the United States of America through a doubtful and bloody war ; 
it has placed her in the chair of independence, and peace returns 
again — to bless whom ? A country willing to redress your wrongs, 
cherish your worth, and reward your services ? A country court- 
ing your return to private life with tears of gratitude and smiles of 
admiration ; longing to divide with you the independency which 
your gallantry has given, and those riches which your wounds 
have preserved ? Is this the case ? — or is it rather a country that 
tramples upon your rights, disdains your cries, and insults your 
distresses ? Have you not more than once suggested your wishes, 
and made known your wants to Congress ? — wants and wishes 
which gratitude and policy should have anticipated, rather than 
evaded. And have you not, lately, in the meek language of en- 
treating memorials, begged from their justice what you could 
no longer expect from their favour ? How have you been an- 
swered ? Let the letter which you are called to consider to-mor- 
row, reply. 

"If this then be your treatment, while the swords you wear are 
necessary for the defence of America, what have you to expect 
from peace, when your voice shall sink, and your strength dissi- 
pate by division ; when those very swords, the instruments and 
companions of your glory, shall be taken from your sides, and no 
remaining mark of military distinction left, but your wants, in- 
firmities, and scars ? Can you then consent to be the only suffer- 
ers by this Revolution ; and, retiring from the field, grow old in 
poverty, wretchedness and contempt ? Can you consent to wade 
through the vile mire of dependency, and owe the miserable rem- 
nant of that life to charity, which has hitherto been spent in ho- 
nour ? If you can, go, and carry with you the jest of Tories, and 
the scorn of Whigs ; the ridicule, and what is worse, the pity 
of the world. Go, starve, and be forgotten! But, if your spirit 
revolt at this ; if you have sense enough to discover, and spirit 
enough to oppose tyranny, under whatever garb it may assume, 
whether it be the plain coat of republicanism, or the splendid robe 



456 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

of royalty ; if you have yet learned to discriminate between a peo- 
ple and a cause, between men and principles, awake — attend to 
your situation, and redress yourselves ! If the present moment be 
lost, every future effort is in vain, and your threats, then, will be 
as empty as your entreaties now. 

« I would advise you, therefore, to come to some final opinion 
upon what you can bear, and what you will suffer. If your deter- 
mination be in any proportion to your wrongs, carry your appeal 
from the justice to the fears of government. Change the milk- 
and-water style of your last memorial ; assume a bolder tone, de- 
cent, but lively, spirited, and determined ; and suspect the man 
who would advise to more moderation and longer forbearance. 
Let two or three men who can feel, as well as write, be appointed, 
to draw up your last remonstrance ; for I would no longer give it 
the soft, suing name of memorial. Let it be represented in lan- 
guage that will neither dishonour you by its rudeness, nor betray 
you by its fears, what has been promised by Congress, and what 
has been performed ; how long and how patiently you have suf- 
fered ; how little you have asked, and how much of that little has 
been denied. Tell them, that though you were the first, and 
would wish to be the last, to encounter danger ; though despair 
itself can never drive you into dishonour, it may drive you from 
the field ; that the wound, often irritated, and never healed, may 
at length become incurable, and that the sUghtest mark of malig- 
nity from Congress, now, must operate like the grave, and part 
you for ever. That, in any political event, the army has its alter- 
native : if peace, that nothing shall separate you from your 
arms but death; if war, that, courting the auspices and inviting 
the directions of your illustrious leader, you will retire to some un- 
settled country, smite in your turn, and <■ mock when their fear 
Cometh on.' But let it represent, also, that should they comply 
with the request of your late memorial, it would make you more 
happy, and them more respectable. That while the war should 
continue, you would follow their standard into the field ; and 
when it came to an end, you would withdraw into the shade of 
private life, and give the world another subject of wonder and 
applause — an army victorious over its enemies, victorious over 
itself." 

Persuaded, says Marshall, as the officers were of the indisposi- 
tion of government to remunerate their services, this eloquent and 
impassioned address, dictated by genius and by feeling, found, in 
almost every bosom, a kindred though latent sentiment, prepared 



COMPLAINTS OF THE ARMY. 457 

to receive its impression. Quick as the train to which the torch is 
applied, the passions caught its flame, and nothing seemed to be 
required but the assemblage proposed for the succeeding day, to 
communicate the conflagration to the combustible mass, and to 
produce an explosion ruinous to the army and to the nation. For- 
tunately, the commander-in-chief was in camp. His characterisiic 
firmness and decision did not forsake him in this crisis. The oc- 
casion required that his measures should be firm, but prudent and 
conciliatory — evincive of his fixed determination to oppose any 
rash proceedings, but calculated to assuage the irritation which 
was excited, and to restore confidence in government. 

Knowing well that it was much easier to avoid intemperate mea- 
sures than to correct them, he thought it of essential importance to 
prevent the immediate meeting of the officers ; but knowing, also, 
that a sense of injury and a fear of injustice had made a deep im- 
pression on them, and that their sensibilities were all alive to the 
proceedings of Congress on their memorial, he thought it more 
advisable to guide their deliberations on that interesting subject, 
than to discountenance them. 

With these views, he noticed, in his orders, the anonymous 
paper, proposing a meeting of the officers, and expressed his con- 
viction that their good sense would secure them from paying any 
" attention to such an irregular invitation ; but his own duty, he 
conceived, as well as the reputation and true interests of the army, 
required his disapprobation of such disorderly proceedings. At 
the same time he requested the general and field-officers, with one 
officer from each company, and the proper representation from the 
staff of the army, to assemble at twelve, on Saturday, the 15th, at 
the new building, to hear the report of the committee deputed by 
the army to Congress. After mature deliberation, they will de- 
vise what further measures ought to be adopted, as most rational, 
and best calculated to obtain the just and important object in 
view." The senior officer in rank present was directed to jire- 
side, and report the result of their deliberations to the commander- 
in-chief. 

The next day a second anonymous address appeared from the 
same writer who had sent forth the first. He eflfected to consider 
Washington's orders as favourable to his views, as " giving sys- 
tem to their proceedings and stability to their resolves." But 
Washington took care to explain his intentions to the officers in- 
dividually, and to exert his utmost influence in preventing hasty 
and intemperate measures. This was by no means an easy task ; 

58 3 a 



458 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

for the officers were fully persuaded of the design of the govern- 
ment to deal unfairly with them, and it was only their reliance on 
their general, and their attachment to his person and character, 
which could induce them to adopt the measures which he recom- 
mended. 

On the 15th, the convention assembled, and General Gates took 
the chair. The commander-in-chief then addressed them in the 
following terms : 

GENERAL WASHINGTON'S SPEECH AT THE MEETING OF OFFICERS. 

"Gentlemen, — By an anonymous summons an attempt has been 
made to convene you together ; how inconsistent with the rules of 
propriety, how unmilitary, and how subversive of all order and 
discipline, let the good sense of the army decide. In the moment 
of this summons, another anonymous production was sent into cir- 
culation, addressed more to the feelings and passions than to 
the judgment of the army. The author of the piece is entitled to 
much credit for the goodness of his pen, and I could wish he had 
as much credit for the rectitude of his heart ; for, as men see 
through different optics, and are induced by the reflecting faculties 
of the mind to use different means to attain the same end, the author 
of the address should have had more charity than to mark for suspi- 
cion the man who should recommend moderation and longer for- 
bearance, or, in other words, who should not think as he thinks, 
and act as he advises. 

"But he had another plan in view, on which candour and libe- 
rality of sentiment, regard to justice, and love of country has no 
part ; and he was right to insinuate the darkest suspicion to effect 
the blackest design. That the address was drawn with great art, 
and is designed to answer the most insidious purposes : that it is 
calculated to impress the mind with an idea of premeditated injus- 
tice in the sovereign power of the United States, and rouse all the 
resentments which must unavoidably flow from such a belief; that 
the secret mover of this scheme, whoever he may be, intended to 
take advantage of the passions, while they were warmed by the 
recollection of pas; distresses, without giving time for cool, deli- 
berative thinking, and that composure of mind which is so necessary 
to give dignity and stabiUty to measures, is rendered too obvious, 
by the mode of conducting the business, to need other proofs than 
a reference to the proceedings. 

"Thus much, gentlemen, I have thought it incumbent on me to 
observe to you, to show upon what principles I opposed the irregu- 



COMPLAINTS OF THE ARMY. 459 

lar and hasty meeting which was proposed to have been held on 
Tuesday last, and not because I wanted a disposition to give you 
every opportunity consistent with your own honour and the dignity 
of the army to make known your grievances. If my conduct, 
therefore, has not evinced to you that I have been a faithful friend 
to the army, my declaration of it at this time would be equally im- 
proper and unavailing. But, as I was among the first who em- 
barked in the cause of our common country, and as I have never 
left your side one moment, but when called on public duty ; and 
as I have been the constant companion and witness of your dis- 
tresses, and not among the last to feel and acknowledge your 
merits ; and as I have ever considered my own military reputation 
as inseparably connected with that of the army ; and as my heart 
has ever expanded with joy when I have heard its praises, and my 
indignation has arisen when the mouth of detraction has been 
opened against it, it can scarcely be supposed at this stage of the 
war, that I am indifferent to its interests. But, how are they to be 
promoted ? The way is plain, says the anonymous addresser. 
If war continues, remove into the unsettled country; there establish 
yourselves, and leave an ungrateful country to defend itself. But 
who are they to defend ? Our wives, our children, our farms, and 
other property which we leave behind us? or, in this state of hos- 
tile preparation, are we to take the two first (tlie latter cannot be 
removed) to perish in a wilderness with cold, hunger, and naked- 
ness ? 

<' If peace takes place, never sheathe your swords, says he, until 
you have obtained full and ample justice. This dreadful alterna- 
tive, of either deserting our country in the extremest hour of her 
distress, or turning our arms against it, which is the apparent 
object, unless Congress can be compelled into instant compliance, 
has something so shocking in it that humanity revolts at the idea. 
My God ! what can this writer have in view by recommending such 
measures? Can he be a friend to the army? Can he be a friend 
to this country ? Rather, is he not an insidious foe ? some emis- 
sary, perhaps from New York, plotting the ruin of both, by sowing 
the seeds of discord and separation between the civil and military 
powers of the continent ? And what a compliment does he pay to 
our understandings', when he recommends measures, in either alter- 
native, impracticable in their nature. 

"But here, gentlemen, I will drop the curtain, because it would 
be as imprudent in me to assign my reasons for the opinion, as it 
would be insulting to your conception, to suppose you stood in 



460 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

need of them. A moment's reflection will convince every dispas- 
sionate mind of the physical impossibility of carrying either pro- 
posal into execution. 

<< There might, gentlemen, be an impropriety in my taking notice 
in this address to you, of an anonymous production ; but the man- 
ner in which that performance has been introduced to the army, 
the effect which it was intended to have, together with some other 
circumstances, will amply justify my observation on the tendency 
of that writing. 

" With respect to the advice given by the author, to suspect the 
man who shall recommend moderate measures, I spurn it, as every 
man who regards that liberty and reveres that justice for which we 
contend, undoubtedly must ; for, if men are to be precluded from 
offering their sentiments on a matter which may involve the most 
serious and alarming consequences that can invite the considera- 
tion of mankind, reason is of no use to us ; the freedom of speech 
may be taken away, and, dumb and silent, we may be led like 
sheep to the slaughter. I cannot, in justice to my own belief, and 
what I have great reason to conceive is the intention of Congress, 
conclude this address without giving it as my decided opinion, that 
that honourable body entertain such exalted sentiments of the ser- 
vices of the army, and from a full conviction of its merits and 
its sufferings will do it a complete justice. That their endeavour 
to discover and establish funds for this purpose has been unwearied, 
and will not cease until they have succeeded, I have not a doubt ; 
but, like all other large bodies, where there is a variety of different 
interests to reconcile, their determinations are slow. Why, then, 
should we distrust them ; and, in consequence of that distrust, 
adopt measures which may cast a shade over that glory which has 
been so justly acquired, and tarnish the reputation of an army 
which is celebrated all through Europe for its fortitude and patriot- 
ism? and for what is this done? To bring the object we seek 
nearer ? No : most certainly, in my opinion, it will cast it at a 
greater distance. For myself, (and I take no merit for giving the 
assurance, being induced to it from feelings of gratitude, veracity, 
and justice, and a grateful sense of the confidence you have ever 
placed in me,) a recollection of the cheerful assistance and prompt 
obedience I have experienced from you under every vicissitude of 
fortune, and the sincere affection I feel for an army I have so long 
had the honour to command, will oblige me to declare, in this 
public and solemn manner, that in the attainment of complete jus- 
tice for all your toils and dangers, and in the gratification of every 



COMPLAINTS OF THE ARMY. 461 

wish, so far as can be done consistently with the great duty I owe 
to my country, and those powers we are bound to respect, you may 
freely command my services to the utmost extent of my abilities. 

"While I give you my assurances, and pledge myself in the 
most unequivocal manner to exert whatever abilities I am possessed 
of in your favour ; let me entreat you, gentlemen, on your part, 
not to take any measures which, viewed in the calm light of reason, 
will lesson the dignity, and sully the glory you have hitherto main- 
tained. Let me request you to rely on the plighted feith of your 
country, and place a full confidence in the purity of the intentions 
of Congress, that, previous to your dissolution as an army, they 
will cause all your accounts to be fairly liquidated, as directed in 
all the resolutions which were pubhshed to you two days ago ; and 
that they will adopt the most effectual measures in their power to 
do ample justice to you for your faithful and meritorious services. 
And let me conjure you, in the name of our common country, as 
you value your own sacred honour, as you respect the rights of 
humanity, and as you regard the military and national character 
of America, to express your utmost horror and detestation of the 
man who wishes, under any specious pretence, to overturn the 
liberties of our country ; and who wickedly attempts to open the 
flood-gates of civil discord, and deluge our rising empire in blood. 

"By thus determining, and thus acting, you will pursue the 
plain and direct road to the attainment of your washes ; you will 
defeat the insidious designs of your enemies, who are compelled to 
resort for open force to secret artifice ; you wall give one more 
distinguished proof of unexampled patriotism and patient virtue 
rising superior to the pressure of the most complicated sufferings ; 
and you will, by the dignity of your conduct, afford occasion for 
posterity to say, when speaking of the glorious example you have 
exhibited to mankind — Had this day been wanting, the world had 
never seen the last stage of perfection to which human nature is 
capable of attaining." 

That eloquent and impassioned production greatly increased the 
sensation which had before existed ; the crisis was alarming. 
Even in the army of a firmly established government, such a gene- 
ral spirit of dissatisfaction would have been unpleasant ; but in a 
new, feeble, and tottering government, and in an army ill-trained 
to strict subordination, the occurrence was far more formidable. 

The effect of this eloquent appeal was irresistible. No person 
w^as bold enough to oppose the advice of Washington, and the 
general impression was apparent. A resolution was passed " as^ 

2 (i2 



462 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

SLiring him that the officers reciprocated his affectionate expressions 
with the greatest sincerity of which the human heart is capable. 
On motion of General Putnam, a committee was then appointed to 
prepare resolutions on the business before them, which were 
speedily reported and adopted. The resolutions were as follows : 

" Resolved unanimously, that at the commencement of the pre- 
sent war, the officers of the American army engaged in the service 
of their country from the purest love and attachment to the rights 
and privileges of human nature ; which motives still exist in the 
highest degree ; and that no circumstances of distress or danger 
shall induce a conduct that may tend to sully the reputation and 
glory which they have acquired at the price of their blood, and 
eight years' faithful services. 

'< Resolved unanimously, that the army continue to have an un- 
shaken confidence in the justice of Congress and their country, 
and are fully convinced that the representatives of America will not 
disband or disperse the army until their accounts are liquidated, 
the balances accurately ascertained, and adequate funds established 
fur payment ; and in this arrangement, the officers expect that the 
half-pay, or a commutation for it, shall be efficaciously compre- 
hended. 

" Resolved unanimously, that his excellency, the commander-in- 
chief, be requested to write to his excellency the President of Con- 
gress, earnestly entreating the most speedy decision of that 
honourable body upon the subject of our late address, which was 
forwarded by a committee of the army, some of whom are waiting 
upon Congress for the result. In the alternative of peace or war, 
this event would be highly satisfactory, and would produce imme- 
diate tranquillity in the minds of the army, and prevent any farther 
machinations of designing men, to sow discord between the civil 
and military powers of the United States. 

" On motion, resolved unanimously, that the officers of the Ame- 
rican army view with abhorrence, and reject with disdain, the 
infamous propositions contained in a late, anonymous address to the 
officers of the army, and resent with indignation the secret attempts 
of some unknown person to collect the officers together in a man- 
ner totally subversive of all discipline and good order. 

"Resolved unanimously, that the thanks of the officers of the 
army be given to the committee who presented to Congress the 
late address of the army ; for the wisdom and prudence with which 
they have conducted that business ; and that a copy of the pro- 
ceedings of this day be transmitted by the president to Major- 



COMPLAINTS OF THE ARMY. 463 

general M'Dougall ; and that he be requested to continue his 
solicitations at Congress until the objects of his mission are accom- 
plished." 

Washington having thus, by his great personal influence, in- 
duced the officers to present their claims with moderation to Con- 
gress, now exerted the same influence in support of their applica- 
tion. The following letter expresses fully his views and feelings 
on this momentous occasion. 

" The result of the proceedings of the grand convention of the 
officers, which I have the honour of enclosing to your excellency 
for the inspection of Congress, will, I flatter myself, be considered 
as the last glorious proof of patriotism which could have been given 
by men who aspired to the distinction of a patriot army ; and will 
not only confirm their claim to the justice, but will increase their 
title to the gratitude of their country. 

" Having seen the proceedings on the part of the army terminate 
with perfect unanimity, and in a manner entirely consonant to my 
wishes ; being impressed with the liveliest sentiments of affection 
for those who have so long, so patiently, and so cheerfully, suffered 
and fought under my direction ; having, from motives of justice, 
duty, and gratitude, spontaneously offered myself as an advocate 
for their rights ; and having been requested to write to your excel- 
lency, earnestly entreating the most speedy decision of Congress 
upon the subjects of the late address from the army to that honour- 
able body ; it now only remains for me to perform the task I have 
assumed, and to intercede in their behalf, as I now do, that the 
sovereign power will be pleased to verify the predictions I have 
pronounced of, and the confidence the army have reposed in, the 
justice of their country. 

" And here I humbly conceive it is altogether unnecessary (while 
I am pleading the cause of an army which have done and suffered 
more than any other army ever did in the defence of the rights and 
liberties of human nature) to expatiate on their claims to the most 
ample compensation for their meritorious services, because they are 
perfectly known to the whole world, and because (although the 
topics are inexhaustible) enough has already been said on the sub- 
ject. To prove these assertions, to evince that my sentiments have 
ever been uniform, and to show what my ideas of the rewards in 
question have always been, I appeal to the archives of Congress, 
and call on those sacred deposits to witness for me. And in order 
that my observations and arguments in favour of a future adequate 
provision for the officers of the army may be brought to remem- 



464 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

brance again, and considered in a single point of view, without 
giving Congress the trouble of having recourse to their files, I will 
beg leave to transmit herewith an extract from a representation 
made by me to a committee of Congress, so long ago as the 
20th of January, 1778, and also the transcript of a letter to the 
president of Congress, dated near Passaic falls, October tlie 1 1th, 
1780. 

" That in the critical and perilous moment M^hen the last-men- 
tioned communication was made, there was the utmost danger a 
dissolution of the army would have taken place unless measures 
similar to those recommended had been adopted, will not admit a 
doubt. That the adoption of the resolution granting half-pay for 
life has been attended with all the happy consequences I foretold, 
so far as respected the good of the service, let the astonishing con- 
trast between the state of the army at this instant and at the former 
period determine. And that the establishment of funds, and secu- 
rity of the payment of all the just demands of the army, will be the 
most certain means of preserving the national faith and future 
tranquillity of this extensive continent, is my decided opinion. 

« By the preceding remarks, it will readily be imagined that, 
instead of retracting and reprehending (from farther experience and 
reflection) the mode of compensation so strenuously urged in the 
enclosures, I am more and more confirmed in the sentiment ; and 
if in the wrong, suffer me to please myself in the grateful delusion. 
For if, besides the simple payment of their wages, a farther com- 
pensation is not due to the sufferings and sacrifices of the officers, 
then have I been mistaken indeed. If the whole army have not 
merited whatever a grateful people can bestow, then have I been 
beguiled by prejudice, and built opinion on the basis of error. If 
this country should not in the event perform every thing which has 
been requested in the late memorial to Congress, then will my 
beHef become vain, and the hope that has been excited void of 
foundation. < And if (as has been suggested for the purpose of in- 
flaming their passions) the officers of the army are to be the only 
sufferers by this revolution ; if, retiring from the field, they are to 
grow old in poverty, wretchedness, and contempt ; if they are to 
wade through the vile mire of dependency, and owe the miserable 
remnant of that life to charity which has hitherto been spent in 
honour,' then shall I have learned what ingratitude is ; then shall 
I have realized a tale which will embitter every moment of my 
future life. 

<' But I am under no such apprehensions. A country rescued 



DISBANDING THE ARMY. 465 

by their arms from impending ruin will never leave unpaid the 
debt of gratitude. 

" Should any intemperate and improper warmth have mingled 
itself among the foregoing observations, I must entreat your excel- 
lency and Congress that it may be attributed to the effusions of an 
honest zeal in the best of causes, and that my peculiar situation 
may be my apology ; and I hope I need not, on this momentous 
occasion, make any new protestations of disinterestedness, having 
ever renounced for myself the, idea of pecuniary reward. The con- 
sciousness of having attempted faithfully to discharge my duty, and 
the approbation of my country, will be a sufficient recompense for 
my services." 

The consequence of the proceedings of the army, and the exer- 
tions of Washington in their behalf, was a resolution of Congress 
commuting the half-pay into a gross sum equal to five years' full 

pay. 

Soon after these events, a letter was received from Lafayette, 
announcing a general peace ; and in April, official intelligence ar- 
rived of the ratification of the preliminary articles between Great 
Britain and France; and on the 19th of that month, the cessation 
of hostilities was proclaimed. 

The delicate operation of disbanding an unpaid army now claimed 
the attention of Congress. The treasury was empty. The expendi- 
tures of the superintendent of the finances had exceeded his re- 
ceipts $404,713, and the excess continued to increase rapidly. 

In vain Congress urged the states to furnish their respective 
contingents. The foreign danger seemed passing away, and they 
were more remiss than ever. The financier was compelled to 
make further anticipations of the revenue. While he was prepar- 
ing to issue his notes for three months' pay to the army, Congress 
issued orders to Washington to grant unlimited furloughs to the 
non-commissioned officers and privates who were engaged to serve 
during the war. This mode of disbanding the army was produc- 
tive of serious alarm. The officers addressed the commander-in- 
chief, and communicated their views with respect to the recent 
promises of the government, which they had, of course, expected 
to be performed before they should be disbanded or dispersed. 

Washington felt the whole force of this appeal. In his answer, 
he declared, "that as no man could possibly be better acquainted 
than himself with the past merits and services of the army, so no 
one could possibly be more strongly impressed with their present 
ineligible situation ; feel a keener sensibility at their distresses ; 
59 



466 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

or more ardently desire to alleviate or remove them." He added, 
" Although the officers of the army very well know my official 
situation : that I am only a servant of the public, and that it is not 
for me to dispense with orders which it is my duty to carry into 
execution, yet, as furloughs, in all services, are considered as a 
matter of indulgence, and not compulsion ; as Congress, I am 
persuaded, entertains the best disposition towards the army, and 
as I apprehend, in a very short time the two articles of complaint 
will be removed, until the further pleasure of Congress can be 
known, I shall not hesitate to comply with the wishes of the army, 
under these reservations only, that officers sufficient to conduct the 
men who receive furloughs, will attend them, either on furlough or 
by detachment." 

This answer was satisfactory, and the arrangements for retiring 
on furlough were made without further difficulty. In the course 
of the summer, the three years' men were also permitted to return 
to their homes, and in October, Congress issued a proclamation, 
declaring all those who had engaged for the war, to be discharged 
on the third of December. 

The following eulogium, from the lips of one of our great states- 
men, conveys a just idea of the honourable conduct of this band 
of patriots : 

" The army was to be disbanded ; but it was unpaid. It was 
to lay down its own power ; but there was no government with 
adequate power to perform what had been promised to it. In this 
critical moment, what is its conduct ? Does it disgrace its high 
character ? Is temptation able to seduce it ? Does it speak of 
righting itself ? Does it undertake to redress its own wrongs by 
its own sword ? Does it lose its patriotism in its deep sense of 
injury and injustice ? Does military ambition cause its integrity 
to swerve ? Far, far otherwise. It had faithfully served and 
saved the country, and to that country it now referred, with un- 
hesitating confidence, its claim and its complaints. It laid down 
its arms with alacrity ; it mingled itself with the mass of the com- 
munity ; and it waited till, in better times, and under a new- 
government, its services might be rewarded, and the promises 
made to it fulfilled. We can hardly recur to this example too 
often, or dwell on it too much, for the honour of our country and 
its defenders."* 

Thus the difficult problem of disbanding an unpaid army was 
solved by a seasonable exertion of the influence and address of 
* Speeches and Forensic Arguments of Daniel Webster. 



TAKES LEAVE OF THE ARMY. 467 

the commander-in-chief. But this could not be felt in every quar- 
ter with equal force. In Lancaster, Pennsylvania, about eighty 
men were stationed, who did not hesitate to revolt against their 
officers, and march to Philadelphia in a body, for the purpose of 
obtaining a redress of grievances from the council of state at the 
bayonet's point. 

On arriving in the city others joined them, and the whole 
marched to the State House, where Congress and the Executive 
Council of the state were assembled, placed sentinels at the doors, 
and sent in a written message, threatening the executive of the 
state with vengeance, if their demands were not granted in twenty 
minutes. This insult applied hardly less to Congress than to its 
immediate object, the executive of Pennsylvania. They were all 
held in durance for three hours, at the end of which period the 
members of Congress separated, after agreeing to re-assemble at 
Princeton. 

Washington, on receiving intelligence of this outrage, instantly 
detached fifteen hundred men under General Howe, to suppress 
the mutiny ; but before this detachment could reach the city, the 
disturbances were quieted. Congress, however, ordered General 
Howe to pursue and arrest the mutineers who had retired into the 
country. 

During the interval which elapsed between the treaty with 
Great Britain and his retirement into private life, Washington's 
attention was anxiously directed to public affairs. In particular,, 
the peace establishment of the country occupied him ; and he 
communicated to Congress his views respecting a competent sys- 
tem for the regulating and disciplining of the militia, which he 
justly considered essential to the future tranquillity, dignity, and 
respectability of the country. 

The circumstances attending General Washington's retirement 
are thus related by Judge Marshall : 

« At length the British troops evacuated New York, and a de- 
tachment from the American army took possession of that town. 
Guards being posted for the security of the citizens, General 
Washington, accompanied by Governor Clinton, and attended by 
many civil and military officers, and a large number of respectable 
inhabitants on horseback, made his pubhc entry into the city ; 
where he was received with every mark of respect and attention. 
His military course was now on the point of terminating ; and he 
was about to bid adieu to his comrades in arras. This affect- 
ing interview took place on the 4th of December. At noon, the 



468 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

principal officers of the army assembled at Frances' tavern, soon 
after which, their beloved commander entered the room. His 
emotions were too strong to be concealed. FiUing a glass, he 
turned to them and said, < With a heart full of love and gratitude, 
I now take leave of you ; I most devoutly wish that your latter 
days may be as prosperous and happy as your former ones have 
been glorious and honourable.' Having drunk, he added, 'I can- 
not come to each of you to take my leave, but shall be obliged if 
each of you will come and take me by the hand.' General Knox, 
being nearest, turned to him. Washington, incapable of utter- 
ance, grasped his hand, and embraced him. In the same affec- 
tionate manner he took leave of each succeeding officer. The tear 
of manly sensibility was in every eye ; and not a word was articu- 
lated to interrupt the dignijfied silence, and the tenderness of the 
scene. Leaving the room, he passed through the corps of light 
infantry, and walked to White Hall, where a barge waited to con- 
vey him to Powles Hook. The whole company followed in mute 
and silent procession, with dejected countenances, testifying feel- 
ings of dehcious melancholy, which no language can describe. 
Having entered the barge, he turned to the company, and, waving 
his hat, bade them a silent adieu. They paid him the same affec- 
tionate coraphment ; and, after the barge had left them, returned 
in the same solemn manner to the place where they had assem- 
bled. 

,'< Congress was then in session at Annapolis, in Maryland, to 
which place General Washington repaired, for the purpose of 
resigning into their hands the authority with which they had in- 
vested him. He arrived on the 19th of December. The next 
day he informed that body of his intention to ask leave to resign 
the commission he had the honour of holding in their service ; 
and requested to know whether it would be their pleasure that he 
should offer his resignation in writing or at an audience. 

« To give the more dignity to the act, they determined that it 
should be offered at a public audience on the following Tuesday, 
at twelve. 

« When the hour arrived for performing a ceremony so well cal- 
culated to recall the various interesting scenes which had passed 
since the commission now to be returned was granted, the gallery 
w^as crowded with spectators, and several persons of distinction 
were admitted on the floor of Congress. The members remained 
seated, and covered. The spectators were standing, and unco- 
vered. The general was introduced by the secretary, and con- 



RESIGNS HIS COMMISSION. 469 

ducted to a chair. After a short pause, the president* informed 
him, that < the United States in Congress assembled were pre- 
pared to received his communications.' With native dignity, im- 
proved by the solemnity of the occasion, the general rose and de- 
livered the following address : 

" < Mr. President, — The great events on which my resignation 
depended, having at length taken place, I have now the honour of 
offering my sincere congratulations to Congress, and of presenting 
myself before them, to surrender into their hands the trust com- 
mitted to me, and to claim the indulgence of retiring from the 
.service of my country. 

" < Happy in the confirmation of our independence and sove- 
reignty, and pleased with the opportunity afforded the United 
States of becoming a respectable nation, I resign with satisfaction 
the appointment I accepted with diffidence ; a diffidence in my 
abilities to accomplish so arduous a task, which however was 
superseded by a confidence in the rectitude of our cause, the sup- 
port of the supreme power of the Union, and the patronage of 
Heaven. 

" ' The successful termination of the war has verified the most 
sanguine expectations ; and my gratitude for the interposition 
of Providence, and the assistance I have received from my coun- 
trymen, increases with every review of the momentous contest. 

'< « While I repeat my obligations to the army in general, I 
should do injustice to my own feelings, not to acknowledge in this 
place the peculiar services and distinguished merits of the gentle- 
men who have been attached to my person during the war. It 
was impossible the choice of confidential officers to compose my 
family should have been more fortunate. Permit me, sir, to 
i-ecommend, ir^ particular, those who have continued in the service 
to the present moment, as worthy of the favourable notice and pa- 
tronage of Congress. 

" < I consider it as an indispensable duty to close this last act of 
ray official life, by commending the interests of our dearest coun- 
try to the protection of Almighty God, and those who have the 
superintendence of them to his holy keeping. 

'< • Having now finished the work assigned me, I retire from the 
great theatre of action, and, bidding an aflfectionate farewell to this 
august body, under whose orders 1 have so long acted, I here offer 
my commission, and take my leave of all the employments of pub- 
lic life.' 

• General Mifflin. 
2R 



470 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

« After advancing to the chair, and delivering his commission 
to the president, he returned to his place, and received, standing, 
the following answer of Congress, which was delivered by the 
president. 

«« ' Sir, — The United States, in Congress assembled, receive 
with emotions too affecting for utterance the solemn resignation 
of the authorities under which you have led their troops with suc- 
cess through a perilous and a doubtful war. Called upon by your 
country to defend its invaded rights, you accepted the sacred 
charge, before it had formed alliances, and whilst it was without 
funds or a government to support you. You have conducted the 
great mihtary contest with wisdom and fortitude, invariably re- 
garding the rights of the civil power, through all disasters and 
changes. You have, by the lov( and confidence of your fellow 
citizens, enabled them to display their martial genius, and trans- 
rait their fame to posterity. You have persevered until these 
United States, aided by a magnanimous king and nation, have 
been enabled under a just Providence to close the war in freedom, 
safety, and independence ; on which happy event we sincerely 
join you in congratulations. 

" <■ Having defended the standard of liberty in this New World, 
— having taught a lesson useful to ':hose who inflict and to those 
who feel oppression, you retire from the great theatre of action with 
the blessings of your fellow citizens. But the glory of your vir- 
tues wuU not terminate wdth your military command ; it will con- 
tinue to animate remotest ages. 

«<<We feel with you our obligations to the army in general, 
and will particularly charge ourselves with the interests of those 
confidential officers who have attended your person to this affect- 
ing moment. 

" « We join wdth you in commending the interests of our dearest 
country to the protection of Almighty God, beseeching him to 
dispose the hearts and minds of its citizens to improve the oppor- 
tunity afforded them of becoming a happy and a respectable na- 
tion. And for you, we address to him our earnest prayers that a 
life so beloved may be fostered with all his care ; that your days 
may be as happy as they have been illustrious ; and that he will 
finally give you that reward which this world cannot give.' 

" This scene being closed, a scene rendered peculiarly interest- 
ing by the personages who appeared in it, by the great events it 
recalled to the memory, and by the singularity of the circum- 
stances under which it was displayed, the American chief with- 



RETIRES TO MOUNT VERNON. 



471 



drew from the hall of Congress, leaving the silent and admiring 
spectators deeply impressed with those sentiments which its solem- 
nity and dignity were calculated to inspire. 

" Divested of his military character, General Washington retired 
to Mount Vernon, followed by the enthusiastic love, esteem, and 
admiration of his countrymen. Relieved from the agitations of a 
doubtful contest, and from the toils of an exalted station, he re- 
turned with increased delight to the duties and the enjoyments of a 
private citizen. He indulged the hope, that, in the shade of re- 
tirement, under the protection of a free government, and the 
benignant influence of mild and equal laws, he might taste that 
felicity which is the reward of a mind at peace with itself and 
conscious of its own purity."* 

* Marshall. 




472 



LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 




CHAPTER XXI. 



HE change which now took place in 
the situation and pursuits of Wash- 
ington was remarkable. Suddenly 
passing from the toils of the first 
commission in the United States to 
the condition of a simple farmer, ex- 
changing the implements of war for 
those of husbandry, and becoming 
the patron and example of inge- 
nious agriculture, was a task that 
to most men would have presented 
insuperable difficulties. To the elevated mind of Washington, 
however, it was at once natural and delightful. The sensations he 
experienced on the total change in his habits of life are best ex- 
pressed in his own words. 




► 




4 



\ 



HIS PRIVATE LIFE. 475 

*'I feel," he writes, "as a weaned traveller must do, who, after 
treading many a painful step with a heavy burden on his shoulders, 
is eased of the latter, having reached the haven to which all the for- 
mer were directed, and from his house-top is looking back and 
tracing with an eager eye the meanders by which he escaped the 
quicksands and mires which lay in his way, and into which none 
but the all-powerful Guide and Dispenser of human events could 
have prevented his falling. 

<'I have become a private citizen on the banks of the Potomac, 
and, under the shadow of my own vine and my own fig-tree, from 
the bustle of a camp and the busy scenes of public life, I am solac- 
ing myself with those tranquil enjoyments, of which the soldier, 
who is ever in pursuit of fame ; the statesman, whose watchful 
days and sleepless nights are spent in devising schemes to promote 
the welfare of his own, perhaps the ruin of other countries, as if 
this globe was insufficient for us all; and the courtier, who is always 
watching the countenance of his prince, in the hope of catching a 
gracious smile, can have very little conception. I have not only 
retired from all public employments, but am retiring within myself, 
and shall be able to view the solitary walk, and tread the paths of 
private life with heartfelt satisfaction. Envious of none, I am 
determined to be pleased with all ; and this, my dear friend, being 
the order of my march, I will move gently down the stream of life, 
until I sleep with my fathers." 

Agriculture, which had always been the favourite employment 
of Washington, was now resumed with increasing delight. The 
energies of his active mind were devoted to this first and most use- 
ful art. No improvements in the construction of farming utensils, 
no valuable experiments in husbandry, escaped his attention. He 
saw, with regret, the miserable system of cultivation which pre- 
vailed too generally in his native country, and wished to introduce 
a better. With this view, he engaged in a correspondence with 
some of the distinguished agriculturists in Great Britain, particu- 
larly the celebrated Arthur Young. He traced the different states 
of agriculture in the two countries, in a great degree, to the follow- 
ing obvious principles. In Great Britain, land was dear, and 
labour cheap. In America, the reverse took place, to such a de- 
gree that manuring land was comparatively neglected, on the mis- 
taken, short-sighted idea, that it was cheaper to clear and cultivate 
new fields, than to improve and repair such as were old. To this 
radical error, which led to idleness and a vagabond, dispersed popu- 
lation, he opposed the whole weight of his influence. His example 



476 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

and recommendations tended to revolutionize the agriculture of his 
country, as his labour had revolutionized its government. 

The extension of inland navigation occupied much of Washing- 
ton's attention, at this period of exemption from public cares. 
Soon after peace was proclaimed, he made a tour as far west as 
Pittsburgh, and also traversed the western parts of New England 
and New York, and examined for himself the difficulties of bring- 
ing the trade of the west to different points on the Atlantic. Pos- 
sessed of an accurate knowledge of the subject, he corresponded 
with the different governors of the States, and other influential cha- 
racters. To them he suggested the propriety of making, by public 
authority, an appointment of commissioners of integrity and ability, 
whose duty it should be, after accurate examination, to ascertain the 
nearest and best portages between such of the eastern and western 
rivers as headed near to each other, though they ran in opposite 
directions ; and also to trace the rivers west of the Ohio to their 
sources and mouths, as they respectively emptied either into the 
Ohio, or the lakes of Canada, and to make an accurate map of the 
whole, with observations on the impediments to be overcome, and 
the advantages to be acquired on the completion of the work. 

The views of Washington in advocating the extension of inland 
navigation were grand and magnificent. He considered it as an 
effectual means of cementing the union of the States. In his letter 
to the governor of Virginia, he observed: "I need not remark to 
you, sir, that the flanks and rear of the United States are possessed 
by other powers, and formidable ones too ; nor need I press the 
necessity of applying the cement of interest to bind all parts of the 
Union together by indissoluble bonds, especially of binding that 
part of it which lies immediately west of us, to the Middle States. 
For what ties, let me ask, should we have upon those people ; how 
entirely unconnected with them shall we be, and what troubles may 
we not apprehend, if the Spaniards on their right, and Great 
Britain on their left, instead of throwing impediments in their way 
as they do now, should hold out lures for their trade and alliance ? 
When they get strength, which will be sooner than most people 
conceive, what will be the consequence of their having formed 
close commercial connections with both or either of those powers? 
It needs not, in my opinion, the gift of prophecy to foretell." 
After stating the same thing to a member of Congress, he proceeds: 
"It may be asked, how we are to prevent this? Happily for us, 
the way is plain. Our immediate interests, as well as remote politi- 
cal advantages, point to it, whilst a combination of circumstances 



HIS PRIVATE LIFE. 477 

render the present time more favourable than any other to accom- 
plish it. Extend the inland navigation of the eastern waters ; com- 
municate them as near as possible with those which run westward ; 
open these to the Ohio ; open also such as extend from the Ohio 
towards Lake Erie ; and we shall not only draw the produce of 
the western settlers, but the peltry and fur trade of the lakes also, 
to our ports ; thus adding an immense increase to our exports, and 
binding those people to us by a chain which never can be broken." 

The Virginia legislature acted on the recommendation of General 
Washington to the extent of his wishes ; and in consequence 
thereof, works of the greatest utility have been nearly accomplished. 
They went one step farther, and by a legislative act, vested in him, 
at the expense of the state, one hundred and fifty shares in the 
navigation of the rivers Potomac and James. The act for this 
purpose w^as introduced with the following preamble: "Whereas, 
it is the desire of the representatives of this Commonwealth to em- 
brace every suitable occasion of testifying their sense of the unex- 
ampled merits of George Washington, Esq., towards his country; 
and it is their wish in particular that those great works for its 
improvement, which, both as springing from the liberty which he 
has been so instrumental in establishing, and as encouraged by 
his patronage, will be durable monuments of his glory, may be 
made monuments also of the gratitude of his country : Be it 
enacted," &c. 

To the friend who conveyed to Washington the first intelligence 
of this bill, he replied : 

" It is not easy for me to decide, by which my mind was most 
affected, upon the receipt of your letter of the 6th instant, surprise 
or gratitude. Both were greater than I had words to express. 
The attention and good wishes which the Assembly have evi- 
denced by their act for vesting in me one hundred and fifty shares 
in the navigation of the rivers Potomac and James is more than 
mere compliment. There is an unequivocal and substantial mean- 
ing annexed. But, believe me, sir, no circumstance has happened 
since I left the walks of public life which has so much embar- 
rassed me. On the one hand, I consider this act as a noble and 
unequivocal proof of the good opinion, the affection and disposition 
of my country to serve me ; and I should be hurt, if, by declining 
the acceptance of it, my refusal should be construed into disre- 
spect, or the smallest slight upon the generous intention of the 
legislature, or that an ostentatious display of disinterestedness or 
public virtue was the source of refusal. 



478 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

" On the other hand, it is really my wish to have my mind and 
my actions, which are the result of reflection, as free and inde- 
pendent as the air, that I may be more at liberty to express my 
sentiments, and, if necessary, to suggest what may occur to me, 
under the fullest conviction, that although my judgment may be 
arraigned, there will be no suspicion that sinister motives had the 
smallest influence in the suggestion. Not content, then, with the 
bare consciousness of my having, in all this navigation business, 
acted upon the clearest conviction of the political importance of 
the measure, I would wish that every individual who may hear that 
it was a favourite plan of mine, may know also that I had no other 
motive for promoting it than the advantage of which I conceived it 
would be productive to the Union at large, and to this state in par- 
ticular, by cementing the eastern and western territory together ; 
at the same time that it will give vigour to, and increase our com- 
merce, and be a convenience to our citizens. 

" How would this matter be viewed, then, by the eye of the 
world, and what opinion would be formed, when it comes to be 

related that G W n exerted himself to effect this work, 

and that G W n has received twenty thousand dollars, 

and five thousand pounds sterling of the public money as an inte- 
rest therein ? Would not this (if I am entitled to any merit for 
the part I have performed, and without it there is no foundation 
for the act) deprive me of the principal thing which is laudable in 
my conduct ? Would it not in some respects be considered in the 
same Hght as a pension ? And would not the apprehensions of 
this induce me to offer my sentiments in future with the more re- 
luctance ? In a word, under whatever pretence, and however cus- 
tomary these gratuities may be in other countries, should I not 
thenceforward be considered as a dependent ? One moment's 
thought of which would give me more pain than I should receive 
pleasure from the product of all the tolls, was every farthing of 
them vested in me." 

To the governor of the state, on receiving from him an official 
copy of the aforesaid act, Washington replied as follows : 

" Your excellency having been pleased to transmit me a copy 
of the act appropriating to my benefit certain shares in the compa- 
nies for opening the navigation of James and Potomac rivers ; 
I take the liberty of returning, to the General Assembly, through 
your hands, the profound, and grateful acknowledgments inspired 
by so signal a mark of their beneficent intentions towards me. I 
beg you, sir, to assure them, that I am filled, on this occasion, 



REFUSAL OF A GIFT FROM VIRGINIA. 479 

with every sentiment which can flow from a heart warm with love 
to my country, sensible to every token of its approbation and 
affection, and solicitous to testify, in every instance, a respectful 
submission to its wishes, 

" With these sentiments in my bosom, I need not dwell on the 
anxiety I feel, in being obliged, in this instance, to decline a 
favour which is rendered no less flattering by the manner in which 
it is conveyed than it is affectionate in itself. In explaining this, 
I pass over a comparison of my endeavours in the public service, 
with the many honourable testimonies of approbation which have 
already so far overrated and overpaid them ; reciting one consi- 
deration only, which supersedes the necessity of recurring to every 
other. 

" When I was first called to the station with which I was ho- 
noured during the late conflict for our liberties, to the diffidence 
which I had so many reasons to feel in accepting it, I thought it 
my duty to join a firm resolution to shut my hand against every 
pecuniary recompense. To this resolution I have invariably ad- 
hered, and from it (if I had the inclination) I do not consider my- 
self at liberty now to depart. 

<< Whilst I repeat, therefore, my fervent acknowledgments to the 
legislature for their very kind sentiments and intentions in my 
favour, and at the same time beg them to be persuaded, that a 
remembrance of this singular proof of their goodness towards me 
will never cease to cherish returns of the warmest affection and 
gratitude ; I must pray that their act, so far as it has for its object 
my personal emolument, may not have its effect ; but if it should 
please the General Assembly to permit me to turn the destination 
of the fund vested in me, from my private emolument to objects 
of a public nature, it will be my study in selecting these, to prove 
the sincerity of my gratitude for the honour conferred upon me, 
by preferring such as may appear most subservient to the enlight- 
ened and patriotic views of the legislature." 

The wishes suggested in this letter were sanctioned by the legis- 
lature ; and, at a subsequent time, the trust was executed by 
conveying the shares to the use of a seminary of learning in the 
vicinity of each river. 

Near the close of the revolutionary war, the officers of the Ame- 
rican army, with a view of perpetuating their friendships, formed 
themselves into a society, to be named after the famous Roman 
patriot, Cincinnatus. At the head of their society General Wash- 
ington was placed. By the rules of their institution, the honours 



480 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

of the society were to be hereditary jn their respective families, and 
distinguished individuals might be admitted as honorary members 
for life. These circumstances, together with the union of the offi- 
cers of the army, gave an alarm to the community ; several indi- 
viduals of which supposed that the hereditary part of the institution 
would be a germ of nobility. It was the usual policy of Washing- 
ton to respect the opinions of the people, in matters indifferent, or 
of small magnitude, though he might think them mistaken. Hav- 
ing ascertained, to his own satisfaction, that a degree of jealousy 
pervaded the mass of the people, respecting the probable tendency 
of this perpetual hereditary society, he successfully exerted his 
influence to new-model its rules, by relinquishing the hereditary 
principle, and the powder of adopting honorary members. The 
result proved the wisdom of the measure ; for all jealousies of the 
society henceforward were done away, and the members thereof 
were received as brethren by the most suspicious of their fellow 
citizens. 

When Washington, at the close of the revolutionary war became 
a private citizen, his country confidently anticipated every possible 
blessing from peace, independence, and self-government. But 
experience soon proved the inefficacy of existing systems for pro- 
moting public happiness, or preserving national dignity. Congress 
had neither the power nor the means of doing justice to public 
creditors, nor of enforcing the respect of foreign nations. Gold and 
silver vanished, commerce languished, property was depreciated, 
and credit expired. The lovers of liberty and independence began 
to be less sanguine in their hopes from the American revolution, 
and to fear that they had built a visionary fabric of government on 
the fallacious ideas of public virtue. For the first five or six years 
immediately following peace, the splendour which surrounded the 
infant states from their successful struggle in the cause of indepen- 
dence and self-government was daily darkening. This state of 
things could not be indifferent to Washington. He was among 
the first to discover the cause, and to point out the remedy. The 
inefficient support he received while commander-in-chief, proved 
the inefficacy of the articles of confederation for raising and sup- 
porting a requisite military force. The experience of the first years 
of peace proved their total inadequacy for the purpose of national 
government. From want of vigour in the federal head, the United 
States were fast dwindling into separate sovereignties, unconnected 
by any bond of union equal to public exigency. The enthusiasm 
of a popular contest, tern:::.„iiiig in victory, began to subside, and 



RISE OF THE FEDERALISTS. 481 

the sacrifices of the Revolution soon became known and felt. The 
claims of those who toiled, and fought, and suffered in the arduous 
struggle were strongly urged, and the government had neither re- 
sources nor power to satisfy or to silence them. The federal head 
had no separate or exclusive fund. The members of Congress 
depended on the states which they respectively represented, even 
for their own maintenance, and money for national purposes could 
only be obtained by requisitions on the different members of the 
confederacy. On them it became necessary immediately to call 
forth funds to discharge the arrears of pay due to the soldiers of 
the Revolution, and the interest on the debt which the government 
had been compelled to contract. The legislatures of the different 
states received these requisitions with respect, listened to the moni- 
tory w'arnings of Congress with deference, and with silent and 
inactive acquiescence. Their own situation, indeed, was full of 
embarrassment. The wealth of the country had been totally ex^ 
hausted during the Revolution. Taxes could not be collected, 
because there was no money to represent the value of the little 
personal property which had not been, and the land which could 
not be destroyed ; and commerce, though preparing to burst from 
its thraldom, had not yet had time to restore to the annual produce 
of the country its exchangeable value. The States owed each a 
heavy debt for local services rendered during the Revolution, for 
which it was bound to provide, and each had its own domestic 
government to support. Under these circumstances, it is not sur- 
prising that each state was anxious to retain for its benefit the 
small but rising revenue derived from foreign commerce ; and that 
the custom-houses in each commercial city were considered as the 
most valuable sources of income which the states possessed. Each 
state, therefore, made its own regulations, its tariff, and tonnage 
duties, and, as a natural consequence, the different states clashed 
with each other ; one nation became more favoured than another 
under the same circumstances ; and one state pursued a system 
injurious to the interest of another. Hence, the confidence of 
foreign countries was destroyed ; and they would not enter into 
treaties of commerce with the confederated government, while they 
were not likely to be carried into effect. A general decay of trade, 
the rise of imported merchandise, the fall of produce, and an un- 
common decrease of the value of lands, ensued. 

The private letters of Washington, at this time, show his anxiety 
for his country's welfare, and his wisdom in pointing out a remedy 
for its degradation. In one of them he observes, "The confedd' 
61 2S 



482 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

ration appears to be to me, to be little more than a shadow without 
the substance, and Congress a nugatory body, their ordinances being 
little attended to. To me it is a solecism in politics ; indeed, it 
is one of the most extraordinary things in nature, that we should 
confederate as a nation, and yet be afraid to give the rulers of that 
jiation, who are the creatures of our own making, appointed for a 
limited and short duration, and who are amenable for every action, 
recallable at any moment, and subject to all the evils which they 
may be instrumental in producing, sufficient powers to order and 
direct the affairs of the same. By such poHcy the wheels of go- 
vernment are clogged, and our brightest prospects, and that high 
expectation which was entertained of us by the wondering world, 
are turned into astonishment ; and from the high ground on which 
we stood, we are descending into the vale of confusion and dark- 
ness. 

"That we have it in our power to become one of the most re- 
spectable nations upon earth, admits, in my humble opinion, of no 
doubt, if we would but pursue a wise, just, and liberal policy 
towards one another, and would keep good faith with the rest of 
the world. That our resources are ample and increasing, none can 
deny ; but while they are grudgingly aj)plied, or not apphed at all, 
we give a vital stab to public faith, and will sink in the eyes of 
Europe into contempt." 

In another, "It is one of the evils of democratic governments, 
Ihat the people, not always seeing, and frequently misled, must 
often feel before they are set right. But evils of this nature seldom 
fail to work their own cure. It is to be lamented, nevertheless, that 
the remedies are so slow, and that those who wish to apply them 
seasonably are not attended to before they suffer in person, in 
interest, and in reputation. I am not without hopes that matters 
will soon take a favourable turn in the federal constitution. The 
discerning part of the community have long since seen the necessity 
of giving adequate powers to Congress for national purposes, and 
those of a different description must yield to it ere long." 

In a letter to Mr. Jay, General Washington observed : <' Your 
sentiments that our affairs are drawing rapidly to a crisis, accord 
with my own. What the event will be, is also beyond the reach 
of my foresight. We have errors to correct ; we have probably 
had too good an opinion of human nature in forming our confede- 
ration. Experience has taught us that men will not adopt and 
carry into execution measures the best calculated for their own 
good, without the intervention of coercive power. I do not con- 



THE CONFEDERATION. 483 

ceive we can subsist long as a nation, without lodging some- 
where a power which will pervade the whole union, in as ener- 
getic a manner as the authority of the state governments extends 
over the several states. To be fearful of investing Congress, con- 
stituted as that body is, with ample authorities for national pur- 
poses, appears to me the very climax of popular absurdity and 
madness. Could Congress exert themselves in an equal or greater 
proportion ? Are not their interests inseparably connected with 
those of their constituents ? By the rotation of appointment must 
they not mingle frequently with the mass of citizens ? Is it not 
rather to be apprehended, if they were possessed of the powers 
before described, that the individual members would be induced to 
use them on many occasions, very timidly and inefficaciously, for 
fear of losing their popularity and future election ? We must take 
human nature as we find it, perfection falls not to the share of 
mortals. Many are of opinion that Congress have too frequently 
made use of the suppliant humble tone of requisition, by applica- 
tions to the states, when they had a right to assert their imperial 
dignity, and command obedience. Be that as it may, requisitions 
are a perfect nullity, where thirteen sovereign, independent, disunited 
states are in the habit of discussing, and refusing or complying 
with them at their option. Requisitions are actually little better 
than a jest and a bye-word throughout the land. If you tell the 
legislatures they have violated the treaty of peace, and invaded the 
prerogatives of the confederacy, they will laugh in your face. What 
then is to be done .'' Things cannot go on in the same train for 
ever. It is much to be feared, as you observe, that the better kind 
of people, having been disgusted with these circumstances, will have 
their minds prepared for any revolution whatever. We are apt to 
run from one extreme into another. To anticipate and prevent dis- 
astrous contingencies would be the part of wisdom and patriotism. 
"What astonishing changes are a few years capable of produc- 
ing ! I am told that even respectable characters speak of a monar- 
chical form of government without horror. From thinking, pro- 
ceeds speaking ; thence to acting is often but a single step. But 
how irrevocable and tremendous ! What a triumph for our ene- 
mies to verify their predictions ! What a triumph for the advo- 
cate of despotism to find that we are incapable of governing our- 
selves, and that systems founded on the basis of equal liberty are 
merely ideal and fallacious ! Would to God that wise measures 
may be taken in time, to avert the consequences we have but too 
«much reason to apprehend. 



484 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

"Retired as I am from the world, I frankly acknowledge I can- 
not feel myself an unconcerned spectator. Yet, having happily 
assisted in bringing the ship into port, and having been fairly dis- 
charged, it is not my business to embark again on a sea of troubles. 

<' Nor could it be expected that my sentiments and opinions 
would have much weight on the minds of my countrymen. They 
have been neglected, though given as a last legacy in the most 
solemn matter. I had then, perhaps, some claims to public atten- 
tion. I consider myself as having none at present." 

Illumination, on the subject of enlarging the powers of Congress, 
was gradual. Washington, in his extensive correspondence and 
intercourse with the leading characters of the different states, urged 
the necessity of a radical reform in the existing system of govern- 
ment. 

The time at length came when the public mind gave tokens of 
being prepared for a change in the constitution of the general go- 
vernment, an occurrence the necessity of which had long been fore- 
seen by Washington and most of the distinguished patriots of that 
period. Evil had accumulated upon evil, till the mass became too 
oppressive to be endured, and the voice of the nation cried out 
for relief. The first decisive measures proceeded from the mer- 
chants, who came forward, almost simultaneously, in all parts of 
the country, with representations of the utter prostration of the mer- 
cantile interests, and petitions for a speedy and efficient remedy. 
It was shown, that the advantages of this most important source 
of national prosperity were flowing into the hands of foreigners, 
and that the native merchants were suffering for the want of a just 
protection, and a uniform system of trade. The wise and reflect- 
ing were convinced that some decided efforts were necessary to 
strengthen the general government, or that a dissolution of the 
union, and perhaps a devastating anarchy, would be inevitable. 

The first step towards a general reformation was rather acci- 
dental than premeditated. Certain citizens of Virginia and Mary- 
land had formed a scheme for promoting the navigation of the 
Potomac and Chesapeake Bay, and commissioners were appointed 
by these two states to meet at Alexandria, and devise some plan 
of operation. These persons made a visit to Mount Vernon, and 
while there, it was proposed among themselves, that more import- 
ant objects should be connected with the purpose at first in view, 
and that the state governments should be solicited to appoint 
other commissioners, with enlarged powers, instructed to form a 
plan for maintaining a naval force in the Chesapeake, and also to 



THE CONFEDERATION. 485 

fix upon some system of duties on exports and imports, in which 
both states should agree, and that in the end Congress should be 
petitioned to allow these privileges. This project was approved 
by the legislature of Virginia, and commissioners were accordingly 
appointed. The same legislature passed a resolution, recommend- 
ing the design to other states, and inviting them to unite, by their 
commissioners, in an attempt to establish such a system of com- 
mercial relations as would promote general harmony and pros- 
perity. 

Five states only, in addition to Virginia, acceded to this propo- 
sition : Maryland, Delaware, Pennsylvania, New Jersey, and New 
York. From these states, commissioners assembled at Annapolis, 
but they had hardly entered into a discussion of the topics which 
naturally forced themselves into view, before they discovered the 
powers with which they were intrusted to be so limited as to tie 
up their hands from eflfecting any purpose that could be of essential 
utility. On this account, as well as from the circumstance that so 
few states were represented, they wisely declined deciding on any 
important measures in reference to the particular subjects for which 
they had come together. Before this convention adjourned, how- 
ever, the commissioners agreed upon a report, in which the neces- 
sity of a revision and reform of the articles of the old federal 
compact was strongly urged, and which contained a recommenda- 
tion to all the slate legislatures for the appointment of deputies, to 
meet at Philadelphia, with more ample powers and instructions. 
This proposal was eventually carried into effect, and in conformity 
with it, a convention of delegates from the several states met at 
Philadelphia, in May, 1787. 

While this proposition was under consideration, an event took 
place which pointed out the propriety of its adoption. The pres- 
sure of evils, in a great degree resulting from the imbecility of 
government, aided by erroneous opinions, which confound liberty 
with licentiousness, produced commotions in Massachusetts, which 
amounted to treason and rebellion. On this occasion, Washington 
expressed himself in a letter, as follows : 

" The commotions and tempers of numerous bodies in the east- 
ern country, present a state of things equally to be lamented and 
deprecated. They exhibit a melancholy verification of what our 
transatlantic foes have predicted, and of another thing, perhaps, 
which is still more to be regretted, and is yet more unaccountable, 
that mankind, when left to themselves, are unfit, for their own go- 
vernment. I am mortified beyond expression, when I view the 

2s2 



486 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

clouds which have spread over the brightest morn that ever daw^ned 
upon my country. In a word, I am lost in amazement, when I 
behold what intrigue the interested views of desperate characters, 
ignorance and jealousy of the minor part, are capable of effecting, 
as a scourge on the major part of our fellow-citizens of the Union : 
for it is hardly to be supposed, that the great body of the people, 
though they will not act, can be so short-sighted, or enveloped in 
darkness, as not to see rays of a distant sun through all this mist 
of intoxication and folly. 

" You talk, my good sir, of employing influence to, appease the 
present tumults in Massachusetts. I know not where that influ- 
ence is to be found, nor, if attainable, that it would be a proper 
remedy for these disorders. Influence is not government. Let us 
have a government by which our lives, liberties, and properties, 
will be secured, or let us know the worst at once. Under these 
impressions, my humble opinion is, that there is a call for decision. 
Know precisely what the insurgents aim at. If they have real 
grievances, redress them, if possible ; or acknowledge the justice 
of them, and your inability to do it in the present moment. If 
they have not, employ the force of government against them at 
once. If this is inadequate, all will be convinced that the super- 
structure is bad, or wants support. To be more exposed in the 
eyes of the world, and more contemptible, is hardly possible. To 
delay one or the other of these expedients, is to exasperate on the 
one hand, or to give confidence on the other, and will add to their 
numbers ; for, like snowballs, such bodies increase by every move- 
ment, unless there is something in the way to obstruct and crum- 
ble them before their weight is too great and irresistible. 

" These are my sentiments. Precedents are dangerous things. 
Let the reins of government, then, be braced and held with a 
steady hand, and every violation of the constitution be repre- 
hended. If defective, let it be amended, but not suffered to be 
trampled upon while it has an existence." 

Virginia placed the name of Washington at the head of her dele- 
gates for the proposed convention. Letters poured in upon him 
from all sides urging his acceptance of the appointment. In an- 
swer to one from Mr. Madison, who had been the principal advo- 
cate of the measure in the Virginia legislature, General Washing- 
ton replied : 

" Although I have bid a public adieu to the public walks of life, 
and had resolved never more to tread that theatre, yet, if upon any 
occasion so interesting to the well-being of our confederacy, it had 



THE CONSTITUTION. 487 

been the wish of the Assembly that I should be an associate in the 
business of revising the federal system, I should, from a sense of 
the obligation I am under for repeated proofs of confidence in me, 
more than from any opinion I could entertain of my usefulness, 
have obeyed its call ; but it is now out of ray power to do this with 
any degree of consistency. The cause I will mention. 

" I presume you heard, sir, that I was first appointed, and have 
since been re-chosen president of the society of the Cincinnati ; 
and you may have understood, also, that the triennial general 
meeting of this body is to be held in Philadelphia the first Mon- 
day in May next. Some particular reasons, combining with the 
peculiar situation of my private concerns, the necessity of paying 
attention to them, a wish for retirement, and relaxation from 
public cares, and rheumatic pains, which I begin to feel very sen- 
sibly, induced me, on the 31st ultimo, to address a circular letter 
to each state society, informing them of my intention not to be at 
the next meeting, and of my desire not to be re-chosen president. 
The vice-president is also informed of this, that the business of the 
society may not be impeded by my absence. Under these circum- 
stances, it will readily be perceived that I could not appear at the 
same time and place, on any other occasion, without giving 
offence to a very respectable and deserving part of the community, 
— the late officers of the American army." 

The meeting of the convention was postponed to a day subse- 
quent to that of the meeting of the Cincinnati. This removed one 
of the difficulties in the way of Washington's acceptance of a seat 
in the convention,* and, joined with the importance of the call, and 
his own eager desire to advance the public interest, finally induced 
his compliance with the wishes of his friends. 

The convention met in Philadelphia, in May, and unanimously 
chose George Washington for their president. On the 17th of Sep- 
tember, 1787, they closed their labours, and submitted the result 
to Congress, with their opinion, " that it should be submitted to a 
convention of delegates chosen, in each state, by the people 
thereof, under the recommendation of its legislature, for their assent 
and ratification." 

By this new form of government, ample powers were given to 
Congress, without the intervention of the states, for every purpose 
that national dignity, interest, or happiness required. 

The ablest pens and most eloquent tongues were employed for 
and against its acceptance. In this animated contest, Washington 
took no part. Having with his sword vindicated the right of his 



488 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

country to self-government, and having with his advice aided 
in digesting an efficient form of government which he most 
thoroughly approved, it would seem as though he wished the peo- 
ple to decide for themselves, whether to accept or reject it. 

Yet the name of Washington, at the head of such a list of wor- 
thies as would reflect honour on any countr}^', had its proper weight 
with the enlightened, and with almost all the well-disposed among 
the less informed citizens, and the Constitution was adopted. To 
the eternal honour of America among the nations of the earlh, it 
was adopted in spite of the obstacles, which in any other country 
would have been insurmountable ; in spite of the doubts and fears 
which well-meaning prejudice creates for itself, and which party 
so artfully inflames into stubbornness ; in spite of the vice which 
it has subjected to restraint, and which is therefore its immortal 
and implacable foe ; in spite of the oligarchies in some of the 
states from whom it snatched dominion ; it was adopted, and our 
country enjoys one more invaluable chance for its union and hap- 
piness ; invaluable ! if the retrospect of the dangers we have es- 
caped shall sufficiently inculcate the principles we have esta- 
blished.* 

The Constitution being accepted by eleven states, and preparatory 
measures being taken for bringing it into operation, all eyes were 
turned to Washington, as the fittest man for the office of Presi- 
dent of the United States. His correspondents began to press 
his acceptance of the high office, as essential to the well-being of 
his country. 

To those who think that Washington was Hke &ther men, it will 
scarcely appear possible, that supreme magistracy possessed no 
charms sufficient to tempt him from his beloved retirement, when 
he was healthy and strong, and only fifty-seven years old. But if 
an opinion can be formed of his real sentiments from the tenor of 
his life and confidential communications to his most intimate 
friends, a conviction will be produced, that his acceptance of the 
Presidency of the United States was the result of a victory ob- 
tained by a sense of duty over his inclinations, anrl was a real 
sacrifice of the latter to the former. 

In a letter to Colonel Henry Lee, Washington observes : 

"Notwithstanding my advanced season of life, my increasing 
fondness for agricultural amusements, and my growing love of 
retirement, augment and confirm my decided predilection for the 
character of a private citizen ; yet it will be no one of these 

* Fisher Amej>. 



THE PRESIDENCY. 489 

motives, nor the hazard to which my former reputation might be 
exposed, nor the terror of encountering new fatigues and troubles, 
that would deter me from an acceptance, but a belief that some other 
person who had less pretence and less inclination to be excused, 
could execute all the duties full as satisfactorily as myself. To say 
more would be indiscreet, as a disclosure of a refusal beforehand 
might incur the application of the fable, in which the fox is repre- 
sented as undervaluing the grapes he could not reach. You will 
perceive, my dear sir, by what is here observed, (and which you 
wall be pleased to consider in the light of a confidential communi- 
cation,) that my inclinations will dispose and decide me to remain 
as I am, unless a clear and insurmountable conviction should be 
impressed on my mind, that some very disagreeable consequences 
must in all human probability result from the indulgence of my 
wishes." 

In a letter to Colonel Hamilton, Washington observes : 
"If I am not grossly deceived in myself, I should unfeignedly 
rejoice, in case the electors, by giving their votes to some other 
person, would save me from the dreadful dilemma of being forced 
to accept or refuse. If that may not be, I am, in the next place, 
earnestly desirous of searching out the truth, and of knowing whe- 
ther there does not exist a probability that the government would 
just as happily and effectually be carried into execution without 
my aid as with it. I am truly solicitous to obtain all the previous 
information which the circumstances will afford, and to determine 
(when the determination can no longer be postponed) according to 
the principles of right reason, and the dictates of a clear con- 
science, without too great a reference to the unforeseen conse- 
quence which may affect my person or reputation. Until that 
period, I may fairly hold myself open to conviction, though I allow 
your sentiments to have weight in them ; and I shall not pass by 
your arguments, without giving them as dispassionate a considera- 
tion as I can possibly bestow upon them. 

"In taking a survey of the subject, in whatever point of light 
I have been able to place it, I will not suppress the acknowledg- 
ment, my dear sir, that I have always felt a kind of gloom upon 
my mind, as often as I have been taught to expect I might, and 
perhaps, must be called upon ere long to make the decision. You 
will, I am well assured, believe the assertion, (though I have little 
expectation it would gain credit from those who are less acquainted 
with me,) that if I should receive the appointment, and should be 
prevailed upon to accept it, the acceptance would be attended with 
62 



490 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

more difficulty and reluctance than I ever experienced before. It 
would be, however, with a fixed and sole determination of lending 
whatever assistance might be in my power to promote the public 
weal, in hopes that at a convenient and early period my services 
might be dispensed with ; and that I might be permitted once 
more to retire, to pass an unclouded evening after the stormy day 
of life, in the bosom of domestic tranquillity." 

In a letter to General Lincoln, Washington observes, "I may, 
however, with great sincerity, and I believe without offending 
against modesty and propriety, say to you, that I most- heartily wish 
the choice to which you allude might not fall upon me ; and that 
if it should, I must reserve to myself the right of making up my 
final decision, at the last moment, when it can be brought into one 
view, and when the expediency or inexpediency of a refusal can be 
more judiciously determined than at present. But be assured, my 
dear sir, if, from any inducement, I shall be persuaded ultimately 
to accept, it will not be, (so far as I know my own heart,) from 
any of a private or personal nature. Every personal consideration 
conspires to rivet me (if I may use the expression) to retire- 
ment. At my time of life, and, under my circumstances, nothing 
in this world can ever draw me from it, unless it be a conviction 
that the partiality of ray countrymen had made my services abso- 
lutely necessary, joined to a fear that my refusal might induce a 
belief that I preferred the conservation of my own reputation and 
private ease to the good of my country. After all, if I should con- 
ceive myself in a manner constrained to accept, I call Heaven to 
witness, that this very act would be the greatest sacrifice of my 
personal feelings and wishes that ever I have been called upon to 
make. It would be to forego repose and domestic enjoyment, for 
trouble, perhaps for public obloquy ; for I should consider myself 
as entering upon an unexplored field, enveloped on every side with 
clouds and darkness. 

"From this embarrassing situation, I had naturally supposed 
that ray declarations at the close of the war would have saved me, 
and that my sincere intentions, then publicly made known, would 
have effectually precluded me for ever afterwards from being 
looked upon as a candidate for any office. This hope, as a last 
anchor of worldly happiness in old age, I had carefully preserved, 
until the pubUc papers and private letters from ray correspond- 
ents in almost every quarter, taught me to apprehend that I might 
soon be obliged to answer the question, whether I would go again 
into public life or not." 



THE PRESIDENCY. 491 

In a letter to the Marquis de Lafayette, Washington ob- 
serves : — 

<< Your sentiments, indeed, coincide much more nearly with 
those of my other friends than with my own feelings. In truth, 
my difficulties increase and magnify, as I draw towards the period 
when, according to the common belief, it will be necessary for 
me to give a definitive answer in one way or other. Should cir- 
cumstances render it a matter inevitably necessary to be in the 
affirmative, be assured, my dear sir, I shall assume the task with 
the most unfeigned reluctance, and with a real diffidence, for 
which I shall probably receive no credit from the world. If I 
know my own heart, nothing short of a conviction of duty will 
induce me again to take an active part in public affairs. And in 
that case, if I can form a plan for ray own conduct, ray endea- 
vours shall be unremittingly exerted (even at the hazard of former 
fame or present popularity) to extricate my country from the 
embarrassmonis in which it is entangled through want of credit, 
and to establish a general system of policy, which, if pursued, 
wall ensure permanent felicity to the Commonwealth. I think I 
see a path as clear and as direct as a ray of light, which leads 
to the attainment of that object. Nothing but harmony, honesty, 
industry, and frugality, are necessary to make us a great and a 
happy people. Happily the present posture of affairs, and the 
prevailing disposition of ray countrymen, promise to co-operate 
in establishing those four great and essential pillars of public 
felicity." 

Before the election of a President came on, so universal was 
the expectation that Washington would be elected, that numer- 
ou's applications were made to him, in anticipation, for offices in 
the government, which would be in his gift. To one of such ap- 
plicants he wrote, as follows : — 

" Should it become absolutely necessary for me to occupy the 
station in which your letter presupposes me, I have determined 
to go into it perfectly free from all engagements of every nature 
whatsoever. A conduct in conformity to this resolution would 
enable me, in balancing the various pretensions of different can- 
didates for appointments, to act with a sole reference to justice 
and the public good. This is, in substance, the answer that I have 
given to all applications (and they are not few) which have already 
been raade." 

For Washington, it was impossible to have rivals. Accord- 
ingly he was soon known to have been chosen President of the 



492 



LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 



United States, As a general and a patriot, he had already filled 
the measure of his glory ; there was no fame left for him to excel 
but his own, and that task, the mightiest of all his labours, was 
now about to be accomplished. 

The following remarks on Washington's second acceptance of 
the office of President, occur in the recent work of Mr. Headley, 
entitled " Washington and his Generals." 

" Though he had reached his threescore years, and pined for the 
rest of a quiet home, he again took on him the burdens of office. 
The nation prospered under his rule. Words of wisdom and 
piety dropped from his lips, and stretching out his arms over the 
Union, both the foundation and topmost stone of which he had laid, 
he gave it his last blessing. Had his counsels been obeyed, and 
all his successors followed in his footsteps, this nation would not 
only have stood first among the powers of the earth, but been the 
especial favourite of Heaven." 




^ 



v; '^ 



# 




WASHINGTON. 
From ;i sKotoli, made for a portrait as Urge as lil'^", piiinted for the state of DeUware, by D. A. Volo7,an. 



THE FIRST PRESIDENCY. 



495 




CHAPTER XXII. 



HE impotence of the general govern- 
ment under the Articles of Confedera- 
tion, and the dilatory and vexatious 
manner in which its business was 
of necessity conducted, had produced 
a great want of punctuality among the 
members of Congress. Although the 
new Constitution, which had been the 
theme of popular discussion ever since 
its promulgation, was appointed to go 
into operation on the 4th of March, 
1787, a House of Representatives 
could not be formed until the 1st of April, nor a Senate until the 
6th of that month. The delay thus produced was compared, by 
General Washington himself, to a reprieve, so great was the reluc- 
tance which he felt to enter upon his new dignity. Writing, in 
confidence, to General Knox, he says : 




496 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

" My movements to the chair of government ■will be accom- 
panied by feelings not unlike those of a culprit who is going to the 
place of his execution ; so unwilling am I, in the evening of hfe, 
nearly consumed in public cares, to quit a peaceful abode for an 
ocean of difficulties, without that competency of political skill, abil- 
ities, and inclination, which are necessary to manage the helm. 
I am sensible that I am embarking the voice of the people, and a 
good name of my own on this voyage ; but what returns will be 
made for them Heaven alone can foretell. Integrity and firmness 
are all I can promise ; these, be the voyage long or short, shall 
never forsake me, although I may be deserted by all men ; for, of 
the consolations which are to be derived from these, under any 
circumstances, the world cannot deprive me." 

Similar sentiments were expressed in letters written about this 
period to General Wayne, General Schuyler, Mr. Hamilton, and 
others. 

Twelve senators being in attendance, on the 6th of April, John 
Langdon, of New Hampshire, was elected president of that body, 
for the purpose of opening and counting the votes for President 
of the United States. A message, announcing the presence of a 
quorum, and the election of a temporary president, was then sent 
to the House of Representatives. That body repaired to the Sen- 
ate chamber, and the votes of the electoral colleges were examined 
in the presence of both houses ; Mr. Patterson, of New Jersey, on 
the part of the Senate, and Mr. Heister, of Pennsylvania, and Mr. 
Parker, of Virginia, on the part of the House, acting as tellers. 
The result, as declared by the president of the Senate, was, that 
George Washington was unanimously elected President, and John 
Adams, Vice-president of the United States. In compliance with 
a resolution of the House, the Senate directed that the persons 
elected be notified thereof. In the course of the few following 
days, the necessary preparations for the reception of the President 
and the commencement of his administration were made by the 
joint committee of the two houses ; and Mr. Osgood, the proprietor 
of the house lately occupied by the president of Congress, was 
engaged in putting that house and its furniture in proper con- 
dition for the residence and use of the President of the United 
States. His temporary accommodation, at the expense of the 
United States, was further provided for by a joint resolution of 
both houses.* 

Charles Thomson, the secretary of the Continental Congress, 

* Marshall. 



RECEPTION AT ALEXANDRIA. 497 

officially announced his election to the chief magistracy of the 
Union to General Washington, at Mount Vernon, on the 14th of 
April, 1789. Having previously determined upon the course which 
he would pursue, in the event of the choice of his fellow-citizens 
falling upon him, he complied with their wishes, and prepared to 
set out immediately for the seat of government. Two days after 
receiving notice of his election, he " bade adieu," in the words of 
his diary, " to Mount Vernon, to private life, and to domestic feli- 
city ; and with a mind impressed with more anxious and painful 
sensations than I have words to express, set out for New York, in 
company with Mr. Thomson and Colonel Humphries, with the 
best disposition to render service to my country in obedience to its 
call, but with less hope of answering its expectations." He was 
met on the road by a number of gentlemen of Alexandria, who 
had come to invite and escort him to a public dinner in that city. 
All its inhabitants united to do him honour, and their address, con- 
sidered as the production of the minds and hearts of his neighbours 
and friends, deserves a place in every memoir of his life. 

'< Again," said they, " your country commands your care. 
Obedient to its wishes, unmindful of your ease, we see you again 
relinquishing the bhss of retirement ; and this, too, at a period 
of life when nature itself seems to authorize a preference of re- 
pose ! 

" Not to extol your glory as a soldier ; not to pour forth our 
gratitude for past services ; not to acknowledge the justice of the 
unexampled honour which has been conferred upon you by the 
spontaneous and unanimous suffrages of three millions of free- 
men in your election to the supreme magistracy ; nor to admire 
the patriotism which directs your conduct, do your neighbours 
and friends now address you. Themes less splendid but more 
endearing impress our minds. The first and best of citizens must 
leave us : our aged must lose their ornament ; our youth their 
model ; our agriculture its improver ; our commerce its friend ; 
our infant academy its protector ; our poor their benefactor ; and 
the interior navigation of the Potomac (an event replete with the 
most extensive utility, already, by your unremitted exertions, 
brought into partial use) its institutor and promoter. 

<< Farewell ! Go ! and make a grateful people happy ; a people 
who will be doubly grateful when they contemplate this recent 
sacrifice for their interest. 

« To that Being who maketh and unmaketh at his will, we com- 
mend you, and after the accomplishment of the arduous business 
63 2x2 



498 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

to which you are called, may he restore to us again the best of 
men, and the most beloved fellow-citizen." 

General Washington returned an answer to this address, ex- 
pressing the emotions he felt at leaving them, and his desire that 
they might meet happily again, as they had done after the long 
and distressing separation occasioned by the war. In the after- 
noon of the same day, he was escorted by the people to George- 
town, where a delegation from Maryland received him. Every- 
where his journey was a continued scene of public rejoicing and 
congratulation. At Philadelphia, the bridge over which he crossed 
the Schuylkill was decorated by a laurel shrubbery on each side, and 
a triumphal arch of laurel was erected at each end. The road was 
blocked up by masses of people, eager to catch a sight of their favour- 
ite, and at night the whole city was illuminated. The roaring of can- 
non at each successive town he visited, gave notice of his approach to 
the people of the next, and they immediately made ready to receive 
him. At Trenton, the ladies were prepared to testify, in a novel 
manner, their grateful sense of the deliverance from the power of a 
brutal enemy, which he had wrought for them twelve years before. 
On the bridge over the creek which passes through the town, a 
triumphal arch was erected, highly ornamented with laurels and 
flowers ; and supported by thirteen pillars, each entwined with 
evergreen. In large gilt letters, on the front of the arch, was the 
inscription — 

"THE DEFENDER OF THE MOTHERS WILL BE THE PROTECTOR OF THE 
DAUGHTERS." 

On another portion of the arch were conspicuously displayed the 
dates of the two memorable occasions in which the valour of the 
commander-in-chief was displayed at Trenton. Here he was met 
by a party of matrons leading their daughters, clothed in white, 
and carrying baskets of flowers in their hands. The latter sang, 
with great effect, the following ode, strewing their flowers before 
him when they reached the last line : 

« Welcome mighty chief, once more 
Welcome to this pratel'ul shore ; 
Now no mercenary foe 
Aims again the fatal hlow, 
Aims at thee, the fatal blow. 

" Virgins fair and matrons grave, 
Those thy conquering arms did save, 
Build for thkk triumplial bowers; 
Strew ye fair his way with flowers, 
Strew your Hero's way with flowers." 



TRIUMPHAL PROGRESS. 499 

At Brunswick, the governor of New Jersey met him and accom- 
panied him to Ehzabethtown Point, the committee of Congress also 
forming a part of the great mihtary parade which escorted him thi- 
ther. 1 he governor and authorities of New Jersey having taken leave 
of him, he embarked with the deputation from Congress, in a bar^e 
manned by thirteen branch pilots, which had been prepared by the 
citizens of New York. From this he landed on the 23d of April at 
Murray s Wharf, which had been magnificently prepared for that 
purpose There, the governor of New York received him and con- 
ducted him with military honours amid an immense concourse of 
people, to the apartments prepared for him. A general illumina- 
tion at night followed this day of extravagant joy. Yet all these 
public testirnonials of his popularity failed to divert the attention 
of General Washington from the arduous and fearful duties and 
responsibilities he was about to assume. His solid judgment was 
neither perverted nor corrupted thereby, and the proofs of confi- 
dence thus afTorded, while they certainly gave him reason for pre- 
sent rejoicing, filled him with anxieties for the future. In his iour- 
nal speaking of the escort which accompanied him from Ehza- 
bethtown Point to New York, he says: ..The display of boats 
^^allch attended and joined on this occasion, some with vocal and 
others with mstruraental music on board, the decorations of the 
ships the roar of cannon, and the loud acclamations of the people 
which rent the air as I passed along the wharves, filled my mind 
wath sensations as painful (contemplating the reverse of this scene 
which may be the case after all my labours to do good) as they 
were pleasing." '' 

Two days before the arrival of General Washington, Mr. Adams 
having arrived in New York, was inducted into the chair of the 
vice-president. Upon taking his seat, he addressed the Senate in 
a neat speech, in which he alluded to the formation of the new 
government and character of the chief magistrate elect, in the fol- 
lowing terms : 

"It is with satisfaction that I congratulate the people of America 
on the formation of a national constitution, and the fair prospect of 
a consistent administration of a government of laws; on the acqui- 
sition of a House of Representatives chosen by themselves, of a 
Senate thus composed by their own state legislatures; and on the 
prospect of an executive authority in the hands of one whose por- 
trait I shall not presume to draw. Were I blessed with powers to 
do justice to his character, it would be impossible to increase the 
confidence or affection of his country, or make the smallest addition 



500 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

to his glory. This can only be effected by a discharge of the pre- 
sent exalted trust, on the same principles, with the same abilities and 
virtues which have uniformly appeared in all his former conduct, 
public or private. May I, nevertheless, be indulged to inquire, if 
we look over the catalogues of the first magistrates of nations, 
whether they have been denominated presidents or consuls, kings 
or princes, where shall we find one whose commanding talents and 
virtues, whose overruling good fortune have so completely united 
all hearts and voices in his favour ? Who enjoyed the esteem 
and admiration of foreign nations and fellow-citizens with equal 
unanimity ? Qualities so uncommon are no common blessings to 
the country that possess them. By these great qualities and their 
benign effects, has Providence marked out the head of this nation 
with a hand so distinctly visible, as to have been seen by all men, 
and mistaken by none."* 

On Thursday, April 30th, the preliminaries being adjusted, the 
two houses of Congress assembled in the Senate chamber, whither 
General Washington was conducted by the joint committee, and 
introduced to the chair. All then proceeded to the gallery in front 
of the Senate chamber, where the chancellor of the state of New 
York administered the oath in the presence of both houses, and in 
view of a great concourse of people, who greeted his entry upon 
the duties of office, with loud and long-repeated applause. Return- 
ing to the Senate chamber, he delivered the following address : — 

<' Fellow citizens of the Senate and House of Representatives : — 
Among the vicissitudes incident to life, no event could have 
filled me with greater anxieties, than that of which the notification 
was transmitted, by your order, and received on the 14th day of 
the present month. On the one hand, I was summoned by my 
country, whose voice I can never hear, but wdth veneration and love, 
from a retreat which I had chosen, with the fondest predilection, 
and, in my flattering hopes, with an immutable decision, as the 
asylum of my declining years ; a retreat which was rendered every 
day more necessary, as well as more dear to me, by the addition 
of habit to inclination, and of frequent interruptions to my health, 
to the gradual waste committed on it by time. On the other hand, 
the magnitude and difficulty of the trust to which the voice of my 
country called me, being sufficient to awaken, in the wisest and most 
experienced of her citizens, a distrustful scrutiny into his qualifi- 
cations, could not but overwhelm with despondence one wh:), 

* Marshall. 



INAUGURAL ADDRESS. 501 

inheriting inferior endowments from nature, and unpractised in the 
duties of civil administration, ought to be peculiarly conscious of 
his own deficiencies. In this conflict of emotions, all I dare aver 
is, that it has been my faithful study to collect my duty from a 
just appreciation of every circumstance by which it might be 
affected. All I dare hope is, that if, in executing this task, I have 
been too much swayed by a grateful remembrance of former in- 
stances, or, by an affectionate sensibility to this transcendant proof 
of the confidence of my fellow-citizens ; and have thence too little 
consulted my incapacity, as well as disinclination, for the weighty 
and untried cares before me, my error will be palliated by the 
motives which misled me, and its consequences be judged by my 
country, with some share of the partiality in which they originated. 
"Such being the impressions under which I have, in obedience 
to the public summons, repaired to the present station ; it would 
be peculiarly improper to omit, in this, my first official act, my 
fervent supplications to that Almighty Being who rules over the 
universe ; who presides in the councils of nations, and whose pro- 
vidential aids can supply every human defect, that his benediction 
may consecrate to the liberties and happiness of the people of the 
United States, a government instituted by themselves for these 
essential purposes, and may enable every instrument employed in 
its administration to execute with success the functions allotted to 
his charge. In tendering this homage to the great Author of 
every public and private good, I assure myself that it expresses 
your sentiments not less than my own ; nor those of my fellow- 
citizens at large, less than either. No people can be bound to 
acknowledge and adore the invisible hand which conducts the 
affairs of men, more than the people of the United States. Every 
step, by which they have advanced to the character of an inde- 
pendent nation, seems to have been distinguished by some token 
of providential agency ; and, in the important revolution just ac- 
complished in the system of their united government, the tranquil 
deliberations and voluntary consent of so many distinct communi- 
ties, from which the event has resulted, cannot be compared with 
the means by which most governments have been established, 
without some return of pious gratitude, along with an humble anti- 
cipation of the future blessings which the past would seem to pre- 
sage. These reflections, arising out of the present crisis, have 
forced themselves too strongly on my mind to be suppressed. 
You will join with me, I trust, in thinking that there are none 



502 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

under the influence of which the proceedings of a new and free 
government can more auspiciously commence. 

" By the article establishing the executive department, it is 
made the duty of the president, 'to recommend to your considera- 
tion such measures as he shall judge necessary and expedient.' 
The circumstances under which I now meet you, will acquit me 
from entering into that subject, farther than to refer to the great 
constitutional charter, under which you are assembled; and which, 
in defining your powers, designates the objects to which your 
attention is to be given. It will be more consistent with those 
circumstances, and far more congenial with the feelings which 
actuate me, to substitute, in place of a recommendation of particu- 
lar measures, the tribute that is due to the talents, the rectitude, 
and the patriotism, which adorn the characters selected to revise 
and adopt them. In these honourable qualifications, I behold the 
surest pledges, that, as on one side, no local prejudices or attach- 
ments, no separate views nor party animosities, will misdirect the 
comprehensive and equal eye, which ought to watch over this great 
assemblage of communities and interests ; so, on another, that the 
foundations of our national policy will be laid in the pure and 
immutable principles of private morality, and the pre-eminence of 
free government be exemplified by all the attributes which can 
win the affections of its citizens, and command the respect of the 
world. I dwell on this prospect, with every satisfaction which an 
ardent love of my country can inspire : since there is no truth more 
thoroughly established than that there exists, in the economy and 
course of nature, an indissoluble union between virtue and happiness, 
between duty and advantage, between the genuine maxims of an 
honest and magnanimous policy, and the solid rewards of public 
prosperity and felicity ; since we ought to be no less persuaded, 
that the propitious smiles of Heaven can never be expected on a 
nation that disregards the eternal rules of order and right, which 
Heaven itself has ordained: and since the preservation of the sacred 
fire of liberty, and the creating of the republican model of govern- 
ment, are justly considered as deeply, perhaps, as finally staked, 
on the experiment intrusted to the hands of the American people. 

"Besides the ordinary objects committed to your care, it will 
remain with your judgment to decide, how far an exercise of the 
occasional power delegated by the fifth article of the Constitution, 
is rendered expedient at the present juncture, by the nature of 
objections which have been urged against the system, or by the 
degree of inquietude which has given birth to them. Instead of 



INAUGURAL ADDRESS. 503 

undertaking particular recommendations on this subject, in which 
I could be guided by no lights derived from official opportunities, 
I shall again give way to my entire confidence in your discernment 
and pursuit for the public good ; for, I assure myself, that, whilst 
you carefully avoid every alteration which might endanger the 
benefit of a united and effective government, or which ought to 
await the future lessons of experience ; a reverence for the charac- 
teristic rights of freemen, and a regard for the public harmony, 
will sufficiently influence your deliberations on the question, how 
far the former can be more impregnably fortified, or the latter be 
safely and advantageously promoted. 

"To the preceding observations, I have one to add, which will 
be most properly addressed to the House of Representatives. It 
concerns myself, and will, therefore, be as brief as possible. When 
I was first honoured with a call into the service of my country, 
then on the eve of an arduous struggle for its liberties, the light in 
which I contemplated my duty required that I should renounce 
every pecuniary compensation. From this resolution, I have in no 
instance departed: and being still under the impressions which 
produced it, I must decline, as inapplicable to myself, any share 
in the personal emoluments which may be indispensably included 
in a permanent provision for the Executive Department; and must, 
accordingly, pray, that the pecuniary estimates for the station in 
which I am placed, may, during my continuance in it, be limited 
to such actual expenditures as the public good may be thought to 
require. 

"Having thus imparted to you my sentiments, as they have 
been awakened by the occasion which brings us together, I shall 
take my present leave ; but not without resorting once more to 
the Benign Parent of the human race, in humble supplication, 
that, since he has been pleased to favour the American people with 
opportunities for deliberating in perfect tranquillity, and dispositions 
for deciding, with unparalleled unanimity, on a form of government 
for the security of their union, and the advancement of their happi- 
ness ; so. His divine blessing may be equally conspicuous in the 
enlarged views, the temperate consultations, and the wise measures, 
on which the success of this government must depend. 

"George Washington." 

In answer to the speech of the president, the Senate prepared 
an address, which was presented to him on the 14th. 

"Sir, — We, the Senate of the United States, return you our sin- 



504 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

cere thanks for your excellent speech delivered to both houses of 
Congress; congratulate you on the complete organization of the 
federal government, and fehcitate ourselves, and our fellow-citizens 
on your elevation to the office of President : an office highly im- 
portant, by the powers constitutionally annexed to it, and extremely 
honourable, from the manner in which the appointment is made. 
The unanimous suffrage of the elective body, in your favour, is 
peculiarly expressive of the gratitude, confidence, and affection, of 
the citizens of America ; and is the highest testimonial at once of 
your merit and their esteem. We are sensible, sir, that nothing 
but the voice of your fellow citizens could have called you from a 
retreat, chosen with the fondest predilection, endeared by habit, 
and consecrated to the repose of declining years. We rejoice, and 
with us all America, that, in obedience to the call of our common 
country, you have returned once more to public life. In you, all 
parties confide : in you, all interests unite : and we have no doubt 
that your past services, great as they have been, will be equalled 
by your future exertions ; and that your prudence and sagacity, as 
a statesman, will tend to avert the dangers to which we were ex- 
posed, to give stability to the present government, and dignity and 
splendour to that country, which your skill and valour as a soldier 
so eminently contributed to raise to independence and empire. 

"When we contemplate the coincidence of circumstances, and 
the wonderful combination of causes, which gradually prepared the 
people of this country for independence ; when we contemplate 
the rise, progress, and termination of the late war, which gave 
them a name among the nations of the earth, we are, with you, 
unavoidably led to acknowledge and adore the Great Arbiter of the 
universe, by whom empires rise and fall. A review of the many 
signal instances of Divine interposition, in favour of this country, 
claims our most pious gratitude : and permit us, sir, to observe, 
that, among the great events which have led to the formation and 
establishment of a federal government, we esteem your acceptance 
of the office of president as one of the most propitious and im- 
portant. 

"In the execution of the trust reposed in us, we shall endeavour 
to pursue that enlarged and liberal policy to which your speech so 
happily directs. We are conscious that the prosperity of each state 
is inseparably connected with the welfare of all, and that, in pro- 
moting the latter, we shall effectually advance the former. In full 
persuasion of this truth, it shall be our invariable aim to divest 
ourselves of local prejudices and attachments, and to view the 



ADDRESS OF CONGRESS. 505 

great assemblage of communities and interests committed to our 
charge with an equal eye. We feel, sir, the force, and acknow- 
ledge the justness of the observation, that the foundation of our 
national policy should be laid in private morality : if individuals 
be not influenced by moral principles, it is in vain to look for 
public virtue ; it is, therefore, the duty of legislatures to enforce, 
both by precept and example, the utility, as well as the necessity, 
of a strict adherence to the rules of distributive justice. We beg 
you to be assured, that the Senate will at all times cheerfully co- 
operate in every measure which may strengthen the Union, con- 
duce to the happiness, or secure and perpetuate the liberties of this 
great, confederated republic. 

«We commend you, sir, to the protection of Almighty God, 
earnestly beseeching him long to preserve a life, so valuable and 
dear to the people of the United States ; and that your administra- 
tion may be prosperous to the nation, and glorious to yourself." 

The address of the House, in answer to the president's speech, 
as reported by Mr. Madison, and accepted by the house, was as 
follows : — 

"Sir, — The representatives of the people of the United States 
present their congratulations on the event by which your fellow- 
citizens have attested the pre-eminence of your merit. You have 
long held the first place in their esteem ; you have often received 
tokens of their affection ; you now possess the only proof that re- 
mained of their gratitude for your services, of their reverence for 
your wisdom, and of their confidence in your virtues ; you enjoy 
the highest, because the truest honour, of being the first magis- 
trate, by the unanimous choice of the freest people on the face of 
the earth. 

"We well knew the anxieties with which you have obeyed a 
summons, from a repose reserved for your declining years, into 
public scenes, of which you had taken your leave for ever. But 
the obedience was due to the occasion. It is already applauded 
by the universal joy which welcomes you to your station ; and we 
cannot doubt, that it will be rewarded with all the satisfaction with 
which an ardent love for your fellow- citizens must review success- 
ful efforts to promote their happiness. 

"This anticipation is not justified merely by the past experience 

of your signal services. It is particularly suggested by the pious 

impressions under which you commence your administration, and 

the enlightened maxims by which you mean to conduct it. We 

64 2U 



506 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

feel, with you, the strongest obligations to adore the Invisible 
Hand, which has led the American people through so many diffi- 
culties ; to cherish a conscious responsibility for the destiny of 
republican liberty ; and to seek the only sure means of preserving 
and recommending the precious deposit, in a system of legisla- 
tion, founded on the principles of an honest policy, and directed 
by the spirit of a diffusive patriotism. 

" The question arising out of the fifth article of the Constitution 
will receive all the attention demanded by its importance ; and 
will, we trust, be decided under the influence of all the considera- 
tions to which you allude. 

" In forming the pecuniary provisions for the executive depart- 
ment, we shall not lose sight of a wish resulting from motives, 
which give it a peculiar claim to our regard. Your resolution, in 
a moment critical to the liberties of your country, to renounce all 
personal emolument, was among the many presages of your patri- 
otic services, which have been amply fulfilled ; and your scrupu- 
lous adherence now, to the law then imposed on yourself, cannot 
fail to demonstrate the purity, while it increases the lustre of a cha- 
racter which has so many titles to admiration. 

'< Such are the sentiments which we have thought fit to address 
to you. They flow from our own hearts ; and we verily believe, 
that, among the millions we represent, there is not a virtuous citi- 
zen whose heart will disown them. 

'< All that remains is, that we join in our fervent supplications 
for the blessings of Heaven on our country, and that we add our 
own, for the choicest of these blessings, on the most beloved of her 
citizens." 

The President, the Vice-president, with the two Houses of 
Congress, proceeded, after the ceremony of inauguration, to St. 
Paul's Chapel, where Divine service was performed by the chap- 
lain to Congress, after which the President was re-conducted to 
his house by a committee appointed for that purpose. 

In the evening, a very ingenious and splendid show of fire- 
works was exhibited. Between the Fort and the Bowling-Green 
stood conspicuous a superb and brilliant transparent painting, in 
the centre of which was the portrait of the President, represented 
under the emblem of Fortitude ; on his right hand was Justice, 
representing the Senate of the United States, and on his left. Wis- 
dom, representing the House of Representatives. 

The followinof animated account of the commencement of the 
domestic life of General Washington in his new position, we ex- 



THE PRESIDENT'S HOUSEHOLD. 507 

tract from the "Recollections and Private Memoirs of the Life 
and Character of Washington," by his honoured relative, G. W. P. 
Custis, Esq. It will afford an interesting and not uninstructive 
comparison of the states of society at the commencement of the 
constitutional government, and at the present time. 

" In the then limited extent and improvement of the city, there 
was some difficulty in selecting a mansion for the residence of the 
chief magistrate, and a household suitable to his rank and station. 
Osgood's house, a mansion of very moderate extent, was at length 
fixed upon, situated in Cherry street. There the President became 
domiciled. His domestic family consisted of Mrs. Washington, 
the two adopted children, Mr. Lear as principal secretary, Colonel 
Humphreys, with Messrs. Lewis and Nelson, secretaries, and Ma- 
jor William Jackson, aid-de-camp. 

" Persons visiting the house in Cherry street at this time of day, 
will wonder how a building so small could contain the many and 
mighty spirits that thronged its halls in olden days. Congress, 
cabinet, all public functionaries in the commencement of the go- 
vernment, were selected from the very elite of the nation. Pure 
patriotism, commanding talent, eminent services, were the proud 
and indispensable requisites for official station in the first days of 
the republic. The first Congress was a most enlightened and 
dignified body. In the Senate were several of the members of the 
Congress of 1776, and signers of the Declaration of Independence 
— Richard Henry Lee, who moved the Declaration, John Adams, 
who seconded it, with Sherman, Morris, Carroll, &c. 

" The levees of the first President were attended by these illus- 
trious patriots and statesmen, and by many others of the patriots, 
statesmen, and soldiers, who could say of the Revolution, " magna 
parsjui;^^ while numbers of foreigners and strangers of distinc- 
tion crowded to the seat of the general government, all anxious to 
witness the grand experiment that was to determine how much 
rational liberty mankind is capable of enjoying, without said lib- 
erty degenerating into licentiousness. 

"Mrs. Washington's drawing-rooms, on Friday nights, were 
attended by the grace and beauty of New York. On one of these 
occasions, an incident occurred which might have been attended 
by serious consequences. Owing to the lowness of the ceiling 
in the drawing-room, the ostrich feather in the head-dress of Miss 
Mclver, a belle of New York, taok fire from the chandelier, to the 
no small alarm of the company. Major Jackson, aid-de-camp to 
the President, with great presence of mind, and equal gallantry, 



508 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

flew to the rescue of the lady, and, by clapping the burning 
plumes between his hands, extinguished the flame, and the draw- 
ing-room went on as usual. 

" Washington preserved the habit, as well in public as in pri- 
vate life, of rising at four o'clock, and retiring to bed at nine. On 
Saturdays he rested somewhat from his labours, by either riding 
mto the country, attended by a groom, or with his family in his 
coach drawn by six horses. 

<' Fond of horses, the stables of the President were always in the 
finest order, and his equipage excellent, both in taste and quality. 
Indeed, so long ago as the days of the vice-regal court of Lord 
Botetourt, at Williamsburg, in Virginia, we find that there existed 
a rivalry between the equipages of Colonel Byrd, a magnate of the 
old regime, and Colonel Washington — the grays against the bays. 
Bishop, the celebrated body-servant of Braddock, was the master 
of Washington's stables. And there were what was termed mus- 
lin horses in those old days. At cock-crow, the stable-boys were 
at work ; at sunrise Bishop stalked into the stables, a muslin hand- 
kerchief in his hand, which he applied to the coats of the animals, 
and, if the slightest stain was perceptible upon the muslin, up 
went the luckless wights of the stable-boys, and punishment was 
administered instanter ; for to the veteran Bishop, bred amid the 
iron disciphne of European armies, mercy for any thing like a 
breach of duty was altogether out of the question. 

" The President's stables in Philadelphia were under the direc- 
tion of German John, and the grooming of the white chargers will 
rather surprise the moderns. The night before the horses were 
expected to be rode, they were covered entirely over with a paste, 
of which whiting was the principal component part ; then the ani- 
mals were swathed in body-cloths, and left to sleep upon clean 
ptraw. In the morning the composition had become hard, was 
well rubbed in, and curried and brushed, which process gave to 
the coats a beautiful, glossy, and satin-like appearance. The hoofs 
were then blacked and polished, the mouths washed, teeth picked 
and cleaned ; and, the leopard-skin housings being properly ad- 
justed, the white chargers were led out for service. Such was the 
grooming of ancient times. 

" There was but one theatre in New York in 1789, (in John 
street,) and so small were its dimensions, that the whole fabric 
might easily be placed on the stage of one of our modern theatres. 
Yet, humble as was the edifice, it possessed an excellent company 
of actors and actresses, including old Morris, who was the associate 



THE PRESIDENT'S HOUSEHOLD. 509 

of Garrick, in the very outset of that great actor's career at Good- 
mans-fields. The stage boxes were appropriated to the President 
and Vice-president, and were each of them decorated with em- 
blems, trophies, &c. At the foot of the play-bills were always the 
words ' Vivat Respuhlica.'' Washington often visited this theatre, 
being particularly gratified by Wignell's performance of Darby, in 
the Poor Soldier. 

"It was in the theatre in John street, that the now national air of 
< Hail Columbia,' then called the ' President's March,' was first 
played. It was composed by a German musician, named Fyles, 
the leader of the orchestra, in compliment to the President. The 
national air will last as long as the nation lasts, while the merito- 
rious composer has been long since forgotten. 

<' It was while residing in Cherry street that the President was 
attacked by a severe illness, that required a surgical operation. 
He was attended by the elder and younger Doctors Bard. The 
elder being somewhat doubtful of his nerves, gave the knife to his 
son, bidding him <cut away — deeper, deeper still; don't be afraid; 
you see how well he bears it.' Great anxiety was felt in New York, 
at this time, as the President's case was considered extremely dan- 
gerous. Happily, the operation proved successful, and the pa- 
tient's recovery removed all cause of alarm. During the illness a 
chain was stretched across the street, and the sidewalks laid with 
straw. Soon after his recovery, the President set out on his in- 
tended tour through the New England states. 

" The President's mansion was so limited in accommodation that 
three of the secretaries were compelled to occupy one room — 
Humphreys, Lewis, and Nelson. Humphreys, aid-de-camp to the 
commander-in-chief at Yorktown, was a most estimable man, and 
at the same time a poet. About this period he was composing his 
' Widow of Malabar.' Lewis and Nelson, both young men, were 
content, after the labours of the day, to enjoy a good night's repose. 
But this was often denied them ; for Humphreys, when in the vein, 
would rise from his bed at any hour, and, with stentorian voice, 
recite his verses. The young men, roused from their slumbers, 
and rubbing their eyes, beheld a great burly figure, « en chemise,'' 
striding across the floor, reciting, with great emphasis, particular 
passages from his poem, and calling on his room-mates for their 
approbation. Having in this way, for a considerable time, < mur- 
dered the sleep' of his associates, Humphreys, at length, wearied 
by his exertions, would sink upon his pillow in a kind of dreamy 
languor. So sadly were the young secretaries annoyed by the fre- 

2 i: 2 



510 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

quent outbursts of the poet's imagination, that it was remarked of 
them by their friends, that, from 1789 to the end of their Hves, 
neither Robert Lewis, nor Thomas Nelson, were ever known to 
evince the slightest taste for poetry."* 

The first care of the president was directed to the attainment of 
such a knowledge of the state of the governmental affairs under 
the Articles of Confederation, as would enable him to administer 
properly the executive department. While Congress was making 
the necessary arrangements for the new government, the old insti- 
tutions continued, and to the temporary heads of departments the 
president turned to obtain this information. Their reports shovv^ed 
that there was ample room for the exercise of all the firmness, 
integrity, and talents of even Washington himself. Another man 
would have shrunk back in despair at the prospect which now 
presented itself to Washington, only to cr.ll forth his energy in sur- 
mounting its difficulties. There were very many objects to be 
contemplated, the documents respecting which could not be found 
in the official records. The conflict respecting the Constitu- 
tion had been so sharp and exciting as to engender much ani- 
mosity, and though its friends formed a majority of the people, 
two states still remained out of the Union, and the discontent and 
ill-feeling existing in the others required the utmost circumspec- 
tion on the part of the administration. In the west, there appeared 
a disposition to separate from the confederacy, in order to obtain 
certain advantages, which, it was supposed, would be granted to a 
separate republic in the west, but which Congress would not be 
able to obtain. British agents suggested that if the people there 
would separate themselves from their Atlantic brethren, the aid of 
the governor of Canada would be afforded them in seizing and 
fortifying the Bahze, at the mouth of the Mississippi, against the 
power of Spain, whose capricious agents frequently denied the 
right of navigating that river, and interdicted commerce with New 
Orleans. Spain also had her agents employed in tampering with the 
people of the west. They suggested that the Mississippi afforded 
the only highway by which the produce of the west could reach the 
markets of the world, that the future wealth and prosperity of that 
section of country depended upon its free navigation, and inti- 
mated that that which would be readily accorded to an independent 
empire established in the interior, could never be granted to them 
while they remained connected with the Atlantic states. The ani- 
mosity felt against England by the inhabitants generally, precluded 

* National Intelligencer. 



FOREIGN RELATIONS. 511 

all fears from her machinations, but those of Spain were more for- 
midable.* 

The Indian relations of the country also demanded considera- 
tion. The savage tribes were now far more formidable than they 
had been to the early colonists. Instructed first by the French in 
the use of firearms and swords, they had cast aside their primitive 
weapons ^before the Revolution commenced, and during its continu- 
ance they had acquired no little knowledge of discipline. They 
had always been possessed of natural courage, and they nearly sup- 
plied by superior cunning what they lost by their inferiority in bodily 
strength when compared with the descendants of the Europeans. 
In the south, the Creek Indians, whose fighting men amounted to 
six hundred, were at war with Georgia. Their chief was a half- 
breed named McGillivray, whose feelings against the colonists were 
embittered by the confiscation of the property of his father, a white 
man who had been a Tory. The state of Georgia claimed a tract 
of land on the Oconge River, under a purchase which the Indians 
denied to be valid. The northern Indians were supposed to be 
able to bring five thousand fighting men into the field, and of these 
nearly one third were at open war with the United States, and the 
residue far from friendly. The regular force of the states num- 
bered less than six hundred men. In addition to the policy of 
accommodating diflferences by negotiation which the government 
was in no condition to terminate by the sword, a real respect for 
the rights of the natives, and a regard for the claims of justice and 
humanity, disposed the President to remove all causes of quarrel 
by treaties, and his message to Congress on this subject evinced his 
preference of pacific measures. 

With the diflferent nations of Europe, the United States were at 
peace, but there existed controversies of a deUcate nature with 
some of them, which, it was feared, would involve the infant republic 
in serious diflSculties. Spain not only denied the right to navigate the 
Mississippi, but claimed a large territory as her property under the 
title of an alleged conquest from Great Britain, the extent of which 
could not be precisely ascertained. An attempt on the part of the 
old government to settle the matter by treaty had failed, and all the 
w^atchfulness and prudence of the executive was necessary to resist 
the violent discontent of the western people, which furnished Spain 
with additional motives for perpetuating the evil of which they com- 
plained. The mutual ill-feeling between the people of the United 
States and the inhabitants of England led the colonists to consider 

• Marshall. 



512 



LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 




tERICAN COMMISSIONBRS NEGOTIATING THE TREAT T. 



the commercial regulations of the British government as the offspring 
of jealousy, and induced them to look to the sinister influence of 
Britain for the cause of all their other troubles, and produced 
similar effects in England. The temper displayed on both sides, 
from the close of the Revolution until the formation of the new 
government, was such as to render the idea of a renewal of the 
war, at no distant period, far from improbable. 

Frederic the Great of Prussia had been early applied to by the 
xVmerican government, which solicited him to join in a treaty of 
neutrality, "as the monarch best calculated to set an example to the 
other powers of Europe." The admiration which the career and 
character of Washington had inspired in the bosom of the king, 
extended itself to the whole American nation : he acceded to their 
request without hesitation, and Franklin, Jefferson, and Adams, 



FORMATION OF THE CONSTITUTION. 513 

concluded a treaty with the Prussian ambassadors at the Hague, 
in 1785, the terms and stipulations of which, based on considera- 
tions of the purest philanthropy, form a most honourable memorial 
of the good understanding between two of the most illustrious 
men of the age. 

With Portugal, an attempt to conclude a commercial treaty had 
failed, and the Barbary powers manifested a hostile disposition. 
The emperor of Morocco, indeed, had concluded a treaty, and 
exhibited no intention of violating it, but peace was yet to be pur- 
chased from Algiers, Tunis, and Tripoli. 

During its first session, the national legislature was principally 
occupied in providing revenues for the long-exhausted treasury, in 
establishing a judiciary, in organizing the executive departments 
in detail, and in framing amendments to the Constitution, agree- 
ably to the suggestion of the President. The members immediately 
entered upon the exercise of those powers so long refused under 
the Articles ( 1' Confederation. They imposed a tonnage duty as well 
as duties on various imported articles, steadily keeping in sight, 
however, the navigating interest of the country, which had hitherto 
been almost wholly at the mercy of other nations. Higher tonnage 
duties were imposed on foreign than on American bottoms, and 
goods imported in vessels belonging to citizens of the United States 
paid ten per cent, less duty than the same goods brought in those 
owned by foreigners. These discriminating duties were intended 
to counteract the commercial regulations of foreign nations, and 
encourage American shipping. To aid in the management of the 
affairs of government, three executive departments were established, 
styled Departments of War, Foreign Affairs, and of the Treasury, 
with a secretary at the head of each. 

The heads of these departments, in addition to the duties spe- 
cially assigned them, were intended to constitute a council, to be 
consulted by the President whenever he thought proper ; and the 
executive was authorized by the Constitution to require the opinion, 
in writing, of the principal officers in the executive departments, 
on subjects relating to the duties of their offices. In framing the 
acts, constituting these offices, and defining their duties, it became 
an important subject of inquiry in what manner, or by whom these 
important officers could be removed from office. This was a ques- 
tion as new as it was momentous, and was applicable to all officers 
of executive appointment. In the long and learned debates on 
the subject, in Congress, there arose a very animated opposition to 
such a construction of the Constitution as to give this power to any 
65 



514 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

one individual. Whatever confidence might be placed in the chief 
magistrate then at the head of the government, equal confidence 
could not be expected in his successors, and it was contended 
that a concurrence of the Senate was as necessary and proper, 
in the removal of a person from office, as in his appointment. 
Some of the members of the House of Representatives were of 
opinion that they could not be removed without impeachment. 
The principal question, however, on which Congress was divided, 
was, whether they were removable by the President alone, or by 
the President, in concurrence with the Senate. A majority, how- 
ever, in both houses, decided that this power was in the President 
alone. In the House, the majority in favour of this construction 
was twelve. This decision of a great constitutional question has 
been acquiesced in, and in its consequences has been of greater 
importance than almost any other since the establishment of the 
new government. From the manner in which this power has been 
exercised, it has given a tone and character to the executive branch 
of the government, not contemplated, it is believed, by the framers 
of the Constitution, or by those who constituted the first Congress 
under it. It has greatly increased the influence and patronage 
of the President, and in no small degree made him the centre, 
around which the other branches of the government revolve.* 

In a free country, where the private citizen has both the right 
and the inclination to take an interest in the public concerns, it is 
natural that political parties and civil contentions should arise. 
These will be more or less violent, angry, and hostile, according as 
a sense of common security from external dangers leaves no cause 
for united action, and little anxiety for the common peace. A na- 
tural consequence of this strife of parties is the exercise of the pas- 
sions — pride, interest, vanity, resentment, gratitude — each contri- 
buting its share in irritating and prolonging the controversy. In 
the beginning of the Revolution, the people of the United States 
divided themselves into the two great classes of Whigs and Tories ; 
then they again separated upon the question of absolute indepen- 
dence. Other questions arose during the war relative to its con- 
duct, and the qualifications of the leaders of the army. Indepen- 
dence achieved, the minds of the people were agitated about the 
nature of the government, which all saw to be necessary for their 
own happiness, and for the better enabling them to prosecute with 
foreign countries peaceful negotiations, or the operations of war. 
Many saw, in too close a union, dangers as great and conse- 

• Pitkin. 



POLITICAL PARTIES. 515 

quences as distasteful as in their entire separation. It was believed 
by many, that the extent of the country, the great diversity of cha- 
racter, habits and pursuits, among the several states, presented in- 
superable obstacles to a closer union than that afforded by the 
Articles of Confederation. Some were almost exclusively commer- 
cial, others agricultural ; some were disposed to engage in manu- 
facturing pursuits ; some had domestic slavery firmly connected 
with their domestic relations, and were disposed to look favour- 
ably on the extension of the institution ; others regarded involun- 
tary servitude as a curse, and desired its abolition. It was not to 
be wondered at, that with such points of diversity, many should 
suppose that a single government could not administer the affairs 
of all, except by a greater delegation of power than would be sub- 
mitted to by the American people. While some looked wholly to 
these apprehended consequences of a close union and a single go- 
vernment, others chiefly regarded the dangers arising from dis- 
union, domestic dissensions, and even war. One party dreaded 
consolidation ; the other anarchy and separation. Each saw, in 
the object of its dread, the destruction of good government, though 
one party looked too exclusively to its characteristic of order, the 
other to that of civil liberty. These were the thoughts of the peo- 
ple, widely differing, but all equally honest. But the politicians 
addressed themselves to these prejudices, often with unworthy mo- 
tives. Local prejudices, self-interest, fears, in some cases from an 
anticipated loss of consequence, in the event of a transfer of sove- 
reignty from the individual states to the general government, all 
combined to make many violent in their expressions of opposition 
to the plan. Apprehensions of violence and disorder, and fears 
from individual popularity in a circumscribed sphere, led others 
to desire consolidation. With these, ranked others who were fond 
of the pomp and show of authority which w^ould attend a powerful 
government, and still others, who, having claims upon the country, 
supposed that they would have much stronger hopes of being paid 
themselves, and of seeing the debts due abroad liquidated, if a sys- 
tem of government were established which could be certain to raise 
a revenue for these objects. On the formation of the Constitution, 
the community settled down into two great parties. Federalists and 
Anti-federalists, or Democrats ; the first believing that the most 
imminent danger to our peace and prosperity was in disunion ; 
and that po])ular jealousy, always active, would withhold the power 
which was essential to good order and national safety ; the other 
party believing that the danger most to be apprehended was in 



516 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

too close a union, and that their most powerful opponents wished 
a consolidated and even a monarchical government. 

There were many who had been accustomed to reflect upon go- 
vernment and political relations previously to the war of indepen- 
dence, when the constitution of Great Britain being by far the best 
that had ever existed, they may naturally be supposed to have con- 
ceived for it a degree of homage and respect which it could 
not now inspire. The speculations on political rights, to which 
the contest with Great Britain and the debates on the question of 
independence gave rise, greatly favoured the doctrines of political 
equality and the hatred of power, in any form that could control 
the public wdll. There are, in the heart of every man, principles 
which readily prepare him for republican doctrines, and after a few 
years, some of the speculative politicians began to think that the 
free, simple, and equal government which w^as suited to the tastes 
and habits of our people, was also the best in theory. The great 
body of the people were partial to the form of government to which 
they had been accustomed, and wished for none other, though the 
leading statesmen differed upon this point. Some preferred the 
republican form in theory, and believed that no other would be 
tolerated in practice ; and others regretted that they were obliged 
to yield so far to popular prejudice as to forego the form they 
deemed best, but determined to avail themselves of every oppor- 
tunity of improving the existing government into that form. Nor 
were they without hopes that by siding with the general govern- 
ment in every question of power between that and the separate 
states, and with the executive in all questions between that and 
the legislature, and by continually increasing the patronage of the 
executive by means of an army, a navy, and the multiplication of 
civil offices, they would ultimately obtain their object.* 

It was in the midst of this society, so agitated and disturbed, that 
Washington, without ambition, without any false show, from a sense 
of duty rather than inclination, and rather trusting in truth than 
confident of success, undertook actually to found the government 
decreed by the new-born Constitution. He rose to his high office 
invested with an immense influence, which was acknowledged and 
received even by his enemies. 

Washington's natural inclination, says Guizot,t was rather to a 
democratic social state than to any other. Of a mind just rather 
than expansive, of a temper wise and calm, full of dignity, but 

• Tucker's Life of Jefferson. 

■\ Essay on the Character and Influence of Washington. 



THE JUST MEDIUM. 517 

free from all selfish and arrogant pretensions ; coveting rather 
respect than power, the impartiality of democratic principles, and 
the simplicity of democratic manners, far from offending or annoy- 
ing him, suited his tastes, and satisfied his judgment. He did not 
trouble himself with inquiring whether more elaborate combina- 
tions, a division into ranks, privileges, and artificial barriers, were 
necessary to the preservation of society. He lived tranquilly in the 
midst of an equal and sovereign people, finding its authority to be 
lawful and submitting to it without effort. 

But when the question was one of political and not social order, 
when the discussion turned upon the organization of the govern- 
ment, he was strongly federal, opposed to local and popular pre- 
tensions, and the declared advocate of the unity and force of the 
central power. 

He placed himself under this standard, and did so to insure its 
triumph. But still his elevation was not the victory of a party, and 
awakened in no one either exultation or regret. In the eyes, not 
only of the public, but of his enemies, he was not included in any 
party, and was above them all; "the only man in the United 
States," said Jefferson, <'who possessed the confidence of all ; — 
. . . there was no other one who was considered as any thing 
more than a party leader," 

It was his constant effort to maintain this honourable privilege. 
<'It is really my wish to have my mind, and my actions, which are 
the result of reflection, as free and independent as the air. 
If it should be my inevitable fate to administer the government, I 
will go to the chair under no pre-engagement of any kind or nature 
whatsoever. . . . Should any thing tending to give me anxiety 
present itself in this or any other publication, I shall never under- 
take the painful task of recrimination, nor do I know that I should 

ever enter upon my justification All else is but food 

for declamation Men's minds are as various as their 

faces ; and, where the motives of their actions are pure, the opera- 
tions of the former are no more to be imputed to them as a crime, 

than the appearance of the latter Differences in 

political opinions are as unavoidable, as, to a certain point, they 
may, perhaps, be necessary."* A stranger also to all personal 
disputes, to the passions and prejudices of his friends, as well as 
liis enemies, the purpose of his whole policy was to maintain this 
position, and to this policy he gave the true name, "the just 
medium !" 

• Washington's Writings, vols. ix. x. 
2X 



518 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

It is much, continues the great statesman of France, to have the 
wish to preserve a just medium ; but the wish, though accompa- 
nied with firmness and abiUty, is not always enough to secure it. 
Washington succeeded in this as much by the natural turn of his 
mind and character, as by making it his peculiar aim ; he was, 
indeed, really of no party, and his country, in esteeming him so, 
did no more than pay homage to truth. 

A man of experience and a man of action, he had an admirable 
wisdom and made no pretension to systematic theories. He took 
no side beforehand ; he made no show of the principles that were 
to govern him. Thus, there was nothing like a logical harshness 
in his conduct, no committal of self-love, no struggle of rival talent. 
When he obtained the victory, his success was not to his adversa- 
ries either a stake lost, or a sweeping sentence of condemnation. 
It was not on the ground of the superiority of his own mind that 
he triumphed, but on the ground of the nature of things and of the 
inevitable necessity that accompanied them. Still his success was 
not an event without a moral character, the simple result of skill, 
strength, or fortune. Uninfluenced by any theory, he had faith in 
truth, and adopted it as the guide of his conduct. He did not pur- 
sue the victory of one opinion against the partisans of another ; 
neither did he act from interest in the event alone, or merely for 
success. He did nothing which he did not liiink to be reasonable 
and just ; so that his conduct, which had no systematic character 
that might be hum^bhug to his adversaries, had still a moral cha- 
racter, which commanded respect. 

Men had, moreover, the most thorough conviction of his disin- 
terestedness ; that great light to which men so willingly trust their 
fate ; that vast power, which draws after it their hearts while at 
the same time it gives them confidence that their interests will not 
be surrendered, either as a sacrifice or as instruments to selfish- 
ness and ambition. A striking proof of his impartiality was af- 
forded in the choice of the persons who were to form his cabinet 
under the law for the formation of the executive departments. 
Before he had assumed the duties of the office to which he had been 
chosen, he had received letters from different persons making appli- 
cation for offices which would be in his gift as President. JMany 
of these were persons whom he was disposed to favour ; but an 
extract from an answer to one of them will show what rule he had 
adopted for his government in this respect : « Should it become 
absolutely necessary for me to occupy the station in which your 
letter presupposes me, I have determined to go into it perfectly free 



THE FIRST SECRETARIES. 519 

from all engagements of any kind whatsoever. A conduct in con- 
formity to this resolution would enable me, in balancing the various 
pretensions of different candidates for appointments, to act with a 
sole reference to justice and the public good. This is in substance 
the answer that I have given to all applications (and they are not 
few) which have already been made. Among the places sought 
after in these applications, I must not conceal that the office to 
which you particularly allude is comprehended. This fact I tell 
you merely as a matter of information. My general manner of 
thinking, as to the propriety of holding myself totally disengaged, 
will apologize for my not enlarging farther on the subject. Though 
I am sensible that the public suffi-age, which places a man in office, 
should prevent him from being swayed, in the execution of it, by 
his private inclinations, yet he may assuredly, without violating his 
duty, be indulged in the continuance of his former attachments." 
In making the selection of the persons who were to take a share in 
his administration, Washington exerted all the means he possessed 
to search out and nominate those persons who would discharge the 
duties of their respective offices to the best interest and highest 
credit of the American union. The unmingled patriotism of his 
motives w^ould receive its clearest demonstration from a view of all 
his private letters on this subject : and the success of his endea- 
vours is completely attested by the abilities and reputation which 
he drew into the public service. 

At the head of the Department of Foreign Affairs, since denomi- 
nated the Department of State, he placed Thomas Jefferson. The 
Democratic party — not the turbulent and coarse democracy of an- 
tiquity or the middle ages, but the great modern democracy — 
never had a more faithful, or more distinguished representative 
than Jefferson. A warm friend of humanity, liberty, and science ; 
trusting in their goodness as well as their rights ; deeply touched 
by the injustice with which the mass of mankind have been treated, 
and the sufferings they endure, and incessantly engaged with an 
admirable disinterestedness, in remedying them, or preventing their 
recurrence ; accepting as a dangerous necessity, almost as one 
evil opposed to another, and exerting himself not merely to restrain, 
but to lower it ; distrusting all display, all personal splendour, as 
a tendency to usurpation ; of a temper, open, kind, indulgent, 
though ready to take up prejudices against, and feel irritated with 
the enemies of his party; of a mind bold, active, ingenious, inquir- 
ing, with more penetration than forecast, but with too much good 
sense to push things to the extreme, and capable of employing. 



520 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

against a pressing danger or evil, a prudence and firmness which 
would perhaps have prevented it, had they been adopted earlier 
or more generally.* 

Mr. Jefferson, in 1784, had been appointed to succeed Dr. 
Franklin at the court of Versailles, where he had acquitted himself 
to the satisfaction of his countrymen, and to the delight of the peo- 
ple among whom he represented them. Having lately obtained 
permission to return for a short time to the United States, he was, 
while on his passage, nominated to this important office, and on 
his arrival in Virginia, found a letter from the President, giving 
him the option of becoming secretary of Foreign Affairs, or of re- 
taining his station at the court of France. In reply to it, Mr. Jef- 
ferson said that his inclinations led him to prefer his former station 
in France, to which it had been his intention to return. "But," 
he added, << it is not for an individual to choose his post. You are 
to marshal us as may be best for the public good ; and it is only 
in case of its being indifferent to you that I would avail myself of 
the option you have so kindly offered in your letter. If you think 
it better to transfer me to another post, my inclination must be no 
obstacle ; nor shall it be, if there is any desire to suppress the 
office I now hold, or to diminish its grade. In either of these 
cases be so good as to signify to me, by another line, your ulti- 
mate wish, and I shall conform to it accordingly. If it should be 
to remain at New York, my chief comfort wall be to work under 
your eye ; my only shelter, the authority of your name ; and the 
wisdom of measures to be dictated by you and implicitly executed 
by me." 

Mr. Madison united his solicitations to those of the President, 
and Mr. Jefferson finally assumed the duties of the station. 

The important and intricate task which would devolve princi- 
pally upon the Secretary of the Treasury, of re-creating the public 
credit, drawing order and arrangement from the chaotic confusion 
in which the finances of America were involved, and of devising 
means which should render the revenue productive, and com- 
mensurate with the demand, was confided to Alexander Ham- 
ilton. 

Hamilton deserves to be ranked among those men who have 
best understood the vital principles and essential conditions of go- 
vernment ; not merely of a nominal government, but of a govern- 
ment worthy of its mission and of its name. In the Constitution of 
the United States, there is not an element of order, strength, and 
* Marshall, Guizot. 



THE FIRST SECRETARIES. 521 

durability to the introduction and adoption of which he did not 
powerfully contribute. Perhaps he believed the monarchical form 
preferable to the republican. Perhaps he sometimes had doubts of 
the success of the experiment attempted in his country. Perhaps, 
also, carried away by his vivid imagination and the logical vehe- 
mence of his mind, he was sometimes exclusive in his views, and 
went too far in his inferences. But, of a character as lofty as his 
mind, he faithfully served the republic, and laboured to found anxl 
not to weaken it. His superiority consisted in knowing, that, na- 
turally, and by a law inherent in the nature of things, power is 
above, at the head of society ; that government should be consti- 
tuted according to this law ; and that every contrary system or 
effort brings sooner or later trouble and weakness into the society 
itself. His error consisted in adhering too closely, and with a 
somewhat arrogant obstinacy, to the precedents of the English con- 
stitution, in attributing, sometimes, in these precedents, the same 
authority to good and to evil, to principles and to the abuse of 
them, and in not attaching due importance to, and reposing 
sufficient confidence in, the variety of political forms and the 
flexibility of human society. There are occasions in which poli- 
tical genius consists, in not fearing what is new, while what is eter- 
nal is respected. 

The Department of War was already filled by General Knox, 
whose character was remarkable for integrity and ability, but who 
was too apt to submit himself to the influence of others, especially 
to those of lofty minds, like Hamilton, to whose political school he 
belonged. The office of Attorney-general was given to Edmund 
Ptandolph, a Democrat in politics, distinguished in the profession 
of the law, at one time governor of Virginia, and an active mem- 
ber of the convention which framed the Constitution, He was a 
restless spirit, who scarcely justified the reliance placed in his pro- 
bity and good faith by the President. 

During the first session of Congress, twelve articles were agreed 
to by both Houses, and submitted to the states as amendments to 
the Constitution. Of these, ten were ratified, by the constitutional 
majority of the states. A national judiciary was also established 
during this session, consisting of a Supreme Court, circuit and dis- 
trict courts. 

The organization of the judiciary has remained nearly the same, 

with a short interval, during which another plan was tried and 

abandoned, to the present time. Much debate was had during this 

session, on the subject of designating a place for the permanent 

66 2x3 



522 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

seat of the national government, but the session closed without a 
decision. The salaries of the President, Vice-president, the secre- 
taries, and the judiciary were fixed, but not without difficulty. A 
law was passed, placing the states of Rhode Island and North 
Carolina on the same footing with the states of the Union until the 
15th of January, 1790, in order to allow another opportunity, by 
ratifying the Constitution, of entering the new confederacy. 

Congress did not lose sight of the principal object in view, in 
forming the new government, the support of public credit. Just 
before they rose, a resolution passed the House of Representatives 
directing the Secretary of the Treasury to prepare a plan for this 
purpose, and report the same to the next session. The President, 
by a resolution of both houses, was requested to recommend to the 
people of the United States a day of public thanksgiving and prayer,, 
to be observed by acknowledging with grateful hearts the many 
and signal favours of Almighty God, especially by affording them 
an opportunity peaceably to establish a constitution of government 
for their safety and happiness. Having fixed the first Monday in 
January, 1790, for their next meeting, Congress adjourned the 
29th of September. 

"A government," says Marshall, "supported in all its depart- 
ments by so much character and talents, at the head of which was 
placed a man whose capacity was undoubted,, whose life had been 
one great and continued lesson of disinterested patriotism, and for 
M'hom almost every bosom glowed with an attachment bordering on 
enthusiasm, could not fail to make a rapid progress in conciliating 
the affection of the people.' That all hostility to the Constitution 
should subside ; that public measures should receive universal ap- 
probation; that no particular disgusts and individual irritations 
should be excited, were expectations which could not reasonably be 
indulged. Exaggerated accounts were indeed circulated of the pomp 
and splendour which were affected by certain high officers, of the 
monarchical tendencies of particular institutions, and of the dispo- 
sitions which prevailed to increase the powers of the executive. 
That the doors of the Senate were closed, and that a disposition had 
been manifested by that body to distinguish the President of the 
United States by a title, gave considerable umbrage, and were repre- 
sented as evincing inclinations, in that branch of the legislature un- 
friendly to republicanism. But the apprehensions of danger to 
liberty from the new system, which had been impressed on the 
minds of well-meaning men, were visibly wearing off; the popu- 
larity of the administration was communicating itself to the govern- 



VISITS AND LEVEES. 523 

ment ; and the materials with which the discontented few were fur- 
nished, could not yet be efficaciously employed. 

The more violent opponents of the new government, indeed, were 
still actively employed in endeavouring to excite the feelings of 
the people against it by all manner of false reports and distorted 
versions of facts. Partly with reference to these effusions of 
mahce, the President, in a letter to Dr. Stuart of Virginia, uses the 
following language : — " While the eyes of America, perhaps of the 
world, are turned to this government, and many are watching the 
movements of all those who are concerned in its administration, I 
should like to be informed through so good a medium of the pub- 
lic opinion of both men and measures, and of none more than my- 
self; not so much of what may be thought commendable parts, if 
any, of my conduct, as of those which are conceived to be of a dif- 
ferent complexion. The man who means to commit no wrong, 
will never be guilty of enormities, consequently he can never be 
unwilling to learn what are ascribed to him as foibles. If they are 
really such, the knowledge of them in a well-disposed mind will 
go halfway towards a reform. If they are not errors, he can 
explain and justify the motives of his actions. 

"At a distance from the theatre of action, truth is not always 
related without embellishment, and sometimes is entirely perverted, 
from a misconception of the causes which produce the effects that 
are the subjects of censure. This leads me to think that the sys- 
tem which I found it indispensably necessary to adopt on my first 
coming to the city, might have undergone severe strictures, and 
have had motives very foreign from those that govern me assigned 
as causes thereof. I mean, first, returning no visits ; secondly, 
appointing certain days to receive them generally, not to the exclu- 
sion, however, of visits on any other days, under particular circum- 
stances ; and thirdly, at first entertaining no company and after- 
wards, until I was able to entertain any at all, confining it to offi- 
cial characters. A few days evinced the necessity of the two first 
in so clear a point of view, that, had I not adopted it, I should 
have been unable to attend to any sort of business, unless I had 
applied the hours allotted to rest and refreshment to this purpose; 
for, by the time I had done breakfast, and thence till dinner, and 
afterwards till bed-time, I could not get relieved from the ceremony 
of one visit, before I had to attend to another. In a word, I had 
no leisure to read or to answer the despatches that were pouring 
in upon me from all quarters. 

" With respect to the third matter, I early received information 



524 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

through very respectable channels, that the adoption thereof was 
not less essential than that of the other two, if the President was 
to preserve the dignity and respect that were due to the first magis- 
trate. For a contrary conduct had involved the late presidents 
of Congress in insuperable difficulties, and the office, in this re- 
spect, in perfect contempt ; for the table was considered as a pub- 
lic one, and every person who could get introduced conceived 
that he had a right to be invited to it. This, although the table 
was always crowded, (and with mixed company, and the President 
considered in no better light than as a maitre d^hotel,) was in its 
nature impracticable, and as many offences given as if no table 
had been kept. 

<' The citizens of this place were well acquainted with this fact, 
and the principal members of Congress, in both Houses, were so 
well convinced of the impropriety and degrading situation of their 
President, that it was the general opinion that the President of the 
United States should neither give nor receive invitations ; some 
from a belief, independent of the circumstances I have mentioned, 
that this was fundamentally right, in order to acquire respect. But 
to this I had two objections, both powerful in my mind ; first, the 
novelty of it I knew would be considered as an ostentatious mimic- 
ry of sovereignty ; and secondly, that so great a seclusion would 
have stopped the avenues to useful information from the many, 
and made me more dependent on that of the few. But to hit on 
a discriminating medium was found more difficult than it appeared 
to be at first view ; for if the citizens at large were begun with, no 
line could be drawn ; all, of decent appearance, would expect to 
be invited, and I should have plunged at once into the evil I was 
endeavouring to avoid. Upon the whole, it was thought best to 
confine my invitations to official characters and to strangers of dis- 
tinction. This line I have hitherto pursued. Whether it may be 
found best to adhere to it or to depart from it, must in some mea- 
sure be the result of experience and information. 

" So strongly had the citizens of this place imbibed an idea of the 
impropriety of my accepting invitations to dinner, that I have not 
received one from any family, though they are remarkable for 
hospitahty, and though I have received every civility and attention 
possible from them, since I came to the city, except to dine with 
the governor on the day of my arrival ; so that if this should be 
adduced as an article of impeachment, there can be at least one 
good reason adduced for my not dining out ; to wit, never having 
been asked to do so." 



THE LEVEES. 525 

In June, 1790, he wrote again to Dr. Stuart, explaining the line 
of conduct he had adopted for the accommodation of those who 
were disposed to call upon him. It combined, he said, pubhc ad- 
vantage with private convenience, and in his judgment was unex- 
ceptionable in itself. Referring to a person who represented, 
according to Dr. Stuart, that there was more pomp used at the 
President's levees than at St. James's, and that the President's 
bows were more distant and stiff, General Washington humor- 
ously writes, "That I have not been able to make bows to the taste 

of poor Colonel B , (who, by the by, I believe, never saw one 

of them,) is to be regretted ; especially, too, as, upon those occa- 
sions, they were indiscriminately bestowed, and the best I was 
master of. Would it not have been better to have thrown the veil 
of charity over them, ascribing their stiffness to the effects of age, 
or to the unskilfulness of my teacher, rather than to pride and dig- 
nity of office, which, God knows, has no charms for me ? For I 
can truly say, I had rather be at Mount Vernon with a friend or 
two about me, than to be attended at the seat of government by the 
officers of state and the representatives of every power in Europe. 

" These visits are optional. They are made without invitation. 
Between the hours of three and four every Tuesday I am prepared 
to receive them. Gentlemen, often in great numbers, come and 
go, chat with each other, and act as they please. A porter shows 
them into the room, and they retire from it when they please, and 
without ceremony. At their first entrance they salute me, and I 
them, and as many as I can talk to, I do. What pomp there is in 
all this, I am unable to discover. Perhaps it consists in not sit- 
ting. To this, two reasons are opposed : first, it is unusual ; se- 
condly, which is a more substantial one, because I have no room 
large enough to contain a third of the chairs which would be suffi- 
cient to admit it. If it is supposed that ostentation, or the fashions of 
courts, (which, by the by, I believe, originate oftener in convenience, 
not to say necessity, than is generally imagined,) gave rise to this 
custom, I will boldly affirm, that no supposition was ever more erro- 
neous ; for if I were to give indulgence to my inclinations, every 
moment that I could withdraw from the fatigue of my station 
should be spent in retirement. That it is not, proceeds from the 
sense I entertain of the propriety of giving to every one as free 
access as consists with that respect which is due to the chair of 
government ; and that respect, I conceive, is neither to be acquired 
nor preserved but by observing a just medium between too much. 
state and too great familiarity. 



526 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

<« Similar to the above, but of a more sociable kind, are the 
visits, every Friday afternoon, to Mrs. Washington, where I 
always am. These public meetings, and a dinner once a week to 
as many as my table will hold, with the references to and from the 
different departments of state, and other communications with all 
parts of the Union, are as much, if not more than I am able to un- 
dergo ; for I have already had, within less than a year, two severe 
attacks, the last worse than the first. A third, more than proba- 
bly, will put me to sleep with my fathers. At what distance this 
may be I know not. Within the last twelve months, Ihave under- 
gone more and severer sickness than thirty preceding years afflicted 
me with. I have abundant reason, however, to be thankful that I 
am so well recovered." 

That Washington should expatiate at such length on this topic, 
may seem strange in our day, when the nature and object of the 
ceremonial arrangements are so well understood, but at the time 
he wrote they were the subject of grave party questions. 

Anxious to visit New England, to observe in person the condi- 
tion of the country, and the dispositions of the people towards the 
government and its measures, the President was disposed to avail 
himself of the short respite from official cares afforded by the recess 
of Congress, to make a tour through the Eastern States. This in- 
tention was received with favour by his friends, who anticipated 
the best effects from such a token of regard, from one who so fully 
enjoyed their love and esteem. He left New York on the 15th of 
October, and arrived there again on the 13th of November, having 
passed through Connecticut and Massachusetts, as far as Ports- 
mouth in New Hampshire, going and returning by different routes. It 
was pleasing to him to contemplate once more the theatre on which 
many interesting military scenes had been exhibited, and to review 
the ground on which his first campaign as commander-in-chief of 
the American army had been made. The progress of society, the 
improvements in commerce, agriculture and manufactures, filled 
him with grateful emotions, which the temper, circumstances, and 
dispositions of the people were calculated to heighten still more. 
His re-appearance in the high station he now filled, brought back 
to recollection the perilous transactions of the war; and the recep- 
tion universally given him attested the unabated love which was 
felt for his person and character, and indicated the growing popu- 
larity, in that part of the Union at least, of the government he ad- 
ministered. Constituted authorities, corporate bodies, religious and 
learned institutions, particular trades and occupations, the mililiu 



RETURN OF FRENCH MINISTER. 527 

and all classes of people, vied with each other by affectionate ad- 
dresses, by illuminations, by military parade, by triumphal proces- 
sions, and by various preparations, decorated by genius and by 
taste, in testifying the sentiment which glow^ed in their bosoms, 
and to which his presence gave increased activity. 

The addresses which were presented evinced a strong attachment 
to the government, and decided approbation of its measures. They 
connected his past services with his present situation, and mani- 
fested the general conviction that, in returning to a public station, 
the private wishes of his heart had yielded to a sense of duty to 
his country. The sincerity and warmth with which he reciprocated 
the affection expressed for his person was well calculated to pre- 
serve the sentiments which were generally diffused. "I rejoice 
with you, my fellows-citizens," said he, in answer to an address 
from the inhabitants of Boston, "in every circumstance that de- 
clares jjpur prosperity ; and I do so most cordially, because you have 
well deserved to be happy. Your love of liberty ; your respect 
for the laws ; your habits of industry ; and your practice of the 
moral and religious obligations, are the strongest claims to national 
and individual happiness. And they will, I trust, be firmly and 
lastingly established." 

Just before his departure from New York, President Wasjaington 
received from the Count de Moustiers, the minister of France, 
official notice that he was permitted by his court to return to Eu- 
rope. By the orders of his sovereign he added, << that his majesty 
was pleased at the alteration which had taken place in the govern- 
ment, and congratulated America on the choice they had made of 
a President." As from himself, he observed that the government 
of this country had been hitherto of so fluctuating a nature that no 
dependence could be placed on its proceedings ; in consequence 
of which foreign nations had been cautious of entering into trea- 
ties, or engagements of any kind with the United States, but that in 
the present government there was a head to look up to, and power 
being placed in the hands of its olftcers, stability in its measures 
might be expected. The disposition of the French monarch to 
cultivate the good will of the new government was also manifested 
in the choice of the new minister. Colonel Ternan, who was named 
as a person who would be particularly acceptable to America, and 
w^hose appointment w^as preceded by the compliment of ascertain 
ing the sense of the President respecting him. Soon after his 
return to New York, the President was informed of the ill success 



528 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

which had attended his first attempt to negotiate a peace with the 
Creek Indians. 

General Lincoln, Mr. Griffin and Colonel Humphries had been 
deputed by him on this mission, soon after his inauguration. These 
met with McGillivray, and other chiefs of the nation, with about 
two thousand men at the Rock Landing, on the frontiers of Georgia. 
The negotiations were soon broken off by McGillivray, whose per- 
sonal interests and connection with Spain were supposed to have 
been the real cause of their abrupt and unsuccessful termination. 
The next year brought round an accomplishment of the President's 
wishes, which had failed in the first attempt. Policy and interest 
concurred in recommending every prudent measure for detaching 
the Creek Indians from all connection with the Spaniards, and 
cementing their friendship with the United States. Negotiations 
carried on with them in the vicinity of the Spanish settlements, pro- 
mised less than negotiations conducted at the seat of govqpiment. 
To induce a disposition favourable to this change of place, the 
President sent Colonel Willet, a gallant and intelligent officer of the 
late army, into the Creek country, apparently on private business, 
but with a letter of introduction to McGillivray, and with instruc- 
tions to take occasional opportunities to point out the distresses 
which <* war with the United States would bring on the Creek 
nation, and the indiscretion of their breakino: off the negotiation 
at the Rock Landing ; and to exhort him to repair with the chiefs 
of his nation to New York, in order to effect a solid and lasting 
peace. Willet performed these duties with so much address that 
McGillivray, with the chiefs of his nation, was induced to come to 
New York, where fresh negotiations commenced, which, on the 7th 
of August, 1790, terminated in the establishment of peace. 

So fully had the benefit of the new system begun to be felt and 
realized, that during the recess of Congress, the state of North 
Carolina ratified the Constitution, and in May, 1790, the President 
had the pleasure of witnessing the completion of the Union under 
the new government by the adoption by Rhode Island of the Con- 
stitution. 

At the opening of the next session, the President congratulated 
Congress on the favourable prospect of public affairs ; and among 
other things recommended to their attention the important subject 
of providing for the common defence, by the establishment of a 
good militia system, and the promotion of such manufactures as 
would render America independentof others for essentials, particu- 
larly military supplies. He also recommended the adoption of all 



THE PUBLIC DEBT. 529 

proper means for the advancement of agriculture, commerce, and 
manufactures, and the promotion of science and Uterature ; and 
above all, that provision should be made for the support of the 
public credit. 

The report of the Secretary of the Treasury respecting public 
credit was submitted to the House on the 15th of January. The 
pubhc debt of the United States was estimated by the secretary at 
more than fifty-four millions of dollars. Of this sum the foreign 
debt, principally due to France and the Hollanders, constituted 
eleven millions and three quarters, including more than a million 
and a half of interest ; and the domestic hquidated debt, including 
about thirteen millions of arrears of interest, more than forty mil- 
lions ; and the unliquidated debt, two millions. The secretary 
recommended the assumption of the debts of the several states, to 
be paid equally with those of the Union, as a measure of sound 
policy and substantial justice. These were estimated at twenty- 
five millions of dollars. Doubts were expressed by the secretary 
whether, in addition to all other expenses, it was in the power of 
the United States to make a secure and effectual provision for the 
payment of the interest of so large a sura, on the terms of the origi- 
nal contracts. He therefore submitted to the House several plans 
for the modification, security, and payment of the domestic debt. 

This important subject was under the consideration of Congress 
until the 4th of August, 1790, when a law making provision for the 
debt of the United States was passed. By this act, a new loan of 
the whole domestic debt was proposed on the following terms : — 
two-thirds of the principal to draw an interest of six per cent, after 
January 1st, 1791 ; and the other third to draw the same interest, 
after the year 1800 ; the arrears of interest to draw three per cent, 
after January, 1791. The debt drawing six per cent, to be 
redeemable by payments not exceeding, in one year, eight per cent. 
on account both of principal and interest ; and the three per cents, 
were made redeemable at the pleasure of the government. By the 
same act. Congress assumed twenty-one millions and a half of the 
state debts ; and this sum was apportioned among the states, hav^ 
ing regard to the amount of the debts of each. The sum thus 
assumed was also to be loaned to the United States by individuals 
holding certain evidences of state debts, but on terms somewhat 
diflTerent from those of the domestic debt. Four-ninths was to 
bear an interest of six per cent, commencing on the 1st of January, 
1792, two-ninths to draw the same interest after the year 1800, 
67 2 Y 



530 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

and the other three-ninths an interest of three per cent, from Janu- 
ary, 1792. 

The report of the secretary gave rise to long and serious de- 
bates. In the national legislature much difference existed as to 
the mode and manner of providing for the payment of so large a 
debt, deemed of little value under the old federal government ; and 
particularly on the question of assuming the state debts. The 
public creditors, as well as the community at large, had waited 
with no small degree of solicitude, for the first financial report from 
the Secretary of the Treasury, and this solicitude was rather in- 
creased than diminished by the proceedings of Congress on the 
subject. It was generally expected that some provision would be 
made for the payment of this debt under the new government ; and 
the propriety of making a discrimination between the original 
holders and the purchasers, had been suggested in private circles 
as well as in the public papers.* 

The report of the secretary adverting to the fact that many of the 
holders of the evidences of the debt had purchased them for a fourth 
or fifth of their nominal value, examined the question whether any 
discrimination should be made between such purchasers of the debt 
and the original creditors ; and its author was clearly of opinion, 
that no discrimination could be made without a breach of public 
faith, and even lessening the value of the debts still remaining in the 
hands of the original holders. In an early stage of the proceedings 
on the report, this question was submitted to the House of Repre- 
sentatives. 

N the 11th of February, Mr. Madison proposed 
that where the public securities had been alien- 
ated, the present holders should receive the high- 
est market price of such securities, and the resi- 
due should be paid to the original proprietors. 
After a spirited debate, which called forth 
nearly all the talents of the house, Mr. Madi- 
son's motion was lost by a vote of thirty-six 
to thirteen. The irredeemability of the debt, except to the 
amount of eight per cent., on account of both principal and interest, 
occasioned also much opposition and debate. The most serious 
debate, however, was upon the assumption of the state debts, a 
measure which created divisions both in and out of Congress, the 
effects of which were long felt in the administration of the general 
government. The debts of the states were very unequal. Those 

» Pitkin. 




STATE DEBTS. . 531 

of Massachusetts and South Carolina amounted to more than ten 
milHons and a half, while the debts of all the other states were 
only estimated at between fourteen and fifteen millions. The first 
proposition on this subject in the House of Representatives, was to 
assume the whole of these debts. In committees of the whole, a 
small majority at first voted in favour of this plan ; but when the 
members from North Carolina took their seats in Congress, the 
subject was recommitted, and the decision reversed. Propositions 
w^re afterwards made to assume specific sums from each, but were 
negatived. These various propositions occasioned long and violent 
debates among the members from different states, and led to an 
inquiry into the origin of the state debts, and to a comparative 
view of the different exertions and expenses of the states themselves 
in the struggle for independence. The assumption of specific sums 
from each, was finally carried in the Senate by a majority of two, 
and was concurred in by the House of Representatives by a majority 
of six. 

In the course of the debate, Mr. Sedgwick declared that the 
insurrection which had taken place in Massachusetts was occa- 
sioned by the burden of taxes necessarily imposed on the people 
of that state to pay a debt incurred merely for national purposes. 
Fisher Ames, in an eloquent speech on the occasion, held the fol- 
lowing language: "Were the state debts contracted for the war? 
It appears, by the books in the public offices, that they were. 
Will any one say, that the whole expense of defending our common 
liberty ought not to be a common charge ? Part of this charge 
was contracted by Massachusetts before Congress assumed the ex- 
ercise of its powers. The first ammunition that repulsed the enemy 
at Lexington and made such havoc at Bunker Hill was purchased 
by the state, and appears in the form of the state debt." The as- 
sumption was negatived at first, but its friends persevered in their 
purpose, and it was finally carried. Previous to its final decision, 
a bill had been passed, fixing the temporary seat of government 
at Philadelphia, until 1800, and after that time permanently on 
the river Potomac. This subject had long been agitated in the old 
Congress, and until this session all attempts to settle it had failed. 
Many have supposed, and on the authority of Mr. Jefferson the 
supposition is confirmed, that this decision was the effect of a com- 
promise on the question of assumption. 

During this session of Congress, a cession of western lands was 
made by North Carolina ; the territory south of the Ohio river was 
formed into a territorial government ; an enumeration of the inha- 



532 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

bitants was directed to be made on the first Monday in August, 
1790 ; and a uniform rule of naturalization was established. A 
fund for sinking the national debt was established. Rhode Island 
having adopted the Constitution in May, 1790, the union of all the 
states under the new government was completed. Congress ad- 
journed on the 12th of August, to meet in Philadelphia on the 
first Monday in the following December. 

As we have already mentioned, a treaty of peace was concluded 
in August of this year, with the Creek Indians, which restored 
tranquillity to the people of Georgia. The pacific overtures made 
to the Indians of the Wabash and the Miamis had not been equally 
successful. The western frontiers were still exposed to their in- 
cursions ; and there was much reason to apprehend that the people 
of Kentucky and of the western counties of the Middle States, 
could only be relieved from the horrors of savage w^arfare by an 
exertion of the military strength of the Union. In the opinion of 
the President, the emergency required the immediate employment 
of a force competent to the object, and which should carry terror 
and destruction into the heart of the hostile settlements. The people 
of the west, however, declared their opinion in favour of desultory 
military expeditions, and Congress indulged their wishes. The 
desire of the executive for a military establishment equal to the 
exigency, was not regarded, and the distresses of the frontier in- 
habitants therefore still continued. 

The conduct of Spain in relation to the disputed boundary and 
its pretensions to the navigation of the Mississippi was such as to 
give ground to fear that its dispositions towards the United States 
were unfriendly. Between the United States and England, the 
non-execution of several articles of the treaty of peace still fur- 
nished matter for reciprocal crimination, which there was the more 
difficulty in removing because there was no diplomatic intercourse 
maintained between them. Under the old government, Mr. Adams's 
mission had been treated with neglect, and the new administration 
was not disposed to subject itself to a similar mark of disrespect. 
Mr. Gouverneur Morris was instructed, as an informal agent to the 
British government, to sound its views respecting amicable and 
permanent arrangements of the matters in dispute. But, Mr. 
Morris remarked, " that there never was, perhaps, a moment in 
which this country (Britain) felt herself greater, and, consequently, 
it is the most unfavourable moment to obtain advantageous terms 
from her in any bargain." He conducted his mission with ability 
and address, but was unable to bring it to a happy conclusion. 



SICKNESS OF THE PRESIDENT. 533 

The communications laid before the American government at the 
same time, by Major Beckwith, an English gentleman who had 
come in an informal manner to learn the dispositions of the Ameri- 
can government towards England and Spain, between which a 
rupture was expected, gave the executive an explanation of the 
delays which had been practised with Mr. Morris. He was per- 
suaded that a disposition existed in the cabinet of London to retain 
things in their actual situation until the intentions of the American 
government should be ascertained with respect to the war supposed 
to be approaching. If America would make a common cause with 
Great Britain against Spain, the way would be smoothed to the 
attainment of all their objects ; but if America should incline 
towards Spain, no adjustment of the points of difference between 
the two nations would be made. He therefore determined to hold 
himself free to pursue, without reproach in the expected war, such 
a course as the interest and honour of the United States miarht 
dictate. The want of official authenticity in the communications of 
Mr. Beckwith was therefore signified to that gentleman as a reason 
for reserve on the part of the government, and the powers given to 
Mr. Morris were withdrawn. It was determined that things should 
remain in their actual situation until a change of circumstances 
should require a change of conduct. Scarcely had this resolution 
been adopted, when the dispute between Britain and Spain was 
adjusted, and thus both the fear of inconveniences and the hope of 
advantages which might result to America from war between the 
two powers was terminated. 

By his incessant application to public business and the conse- 
quent change of active for sedentary habits, the constitution of the 
President seemed much impaired, and during the second session 
of Congress he had, for the second time since entering upon the 
duties of his office, been attacked by a severe disease which reduced 
him to the brink of the grave. Exercise, and a temporary relief 
from the cares of office being essential to the restoration of his 
health, he determined for the short interval afforded by the recess 
of the legislature, to retire from the fatigues of public hfe to the 
tranquil shades of Mount Vernon. Previously, however, he made 
a visit to Rhode Island, which not having been a member of the 
Union at the time of his late tour through New England, had not 
been visited by him at that time. 

His final departure from New York was not less affecting than 
his arrival had been, when he came to assume the reins of govern- 
ment. It was always his habit, says Custis in his « Recollections," 

2 Y 2 



534 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

to endeavour to avoid the manifestations of affection and gratitude 
that met him everywhere. He strove in vain, he was closely 
watched, and the people would have their M^ay. He wished to 
slip off unobserved from New York, and thus steal a march upon 
his old companions in arms. But there were too many of the dear 
g-lorious old veterans of the Hevolution at that time of day in and 
near New York to render such an escape even possible. 

" The baggage had all been packed up ; the horses, carriages, and 
servants ordered to be over the Ferry to Paulus Hook by daybreak, 
and nothing was wanting for departure but the dawn. The lights 
were yet burning, when the President came into the room where 
his family were assembled, evidently much pleased in the belief 
that all was right, when, immediately under the windows, the band 
of the artillery struck up Washington's March. ' There,' he ex- 
claimed, ' it's all over ; we are found out. Well, well, they must 
have their own way.' New York soon after appeared as if taken 
by storm ; troops and persons of all descriptions hurrying down 
Broadway toward the place of embarkation, all anxious to take a 
last look on him whom so many could never expect to see again. 

" The embarkation was delayed until all the complimentary ar- 
rangments were completed. The President, after taking leave of 
many dear and cherished friends, and many an old companion in 
arms, stepped into the barge that was to convey him from New 
York for ever. The coxswain gave the word < let fall ;' the spray 
from the oars sparkled in the morning sunbeams ; the bowman 
shoved off from the pier, and, as the barge swung round to the 
tide, Washington rose, uncovered, in the stern, to bid adieu to the 
masses assembled on the shore ; he waved his hat, and, in a voice 
tremulous from emotion, pronounced Farewell. It may be supposed 
that Major Bauman, who commanded the artillery on this interest- 
ing occasion, who was first captain of Lamb's regiment, and a 
favourite officer of the war of the Revolution, would, when about 
to pay his last respects to his beloved commander, load his pieces 
with something more than mere blank cartridges. But ah ! the 
thunders of the cannon were completely hushed when the mighty 
shout of the people arose that responded to the farewell of Wash- 
ington. Pure from the heart it came; right up to Heaven it went, 
to call down a blessing upon the Father of his Country. 

"The barge had scarcely gained the middle of the Hudson when 
the trumpets were heard at Paulus Hook, where the governor and 
the chivalry of Jersey were in waiting to welcome the chief to those 
well-remembered shores. Escorts of cavalry relieved each other 



RETURN TO MOUxNT VERNON. 535 

throughout the whole route, up to the Pennsylvania line; every 
village, and even hamlet, turned out its population to greet with 
cordial welcome the man upon whom all eyes were fixed, and in 
whom all hearts rejoiced, 

"What must have been the recollections that crowded on the 
mind of Washington during this triumphant progress ! Newark, 
Brunswick, Princeton, Trenton ! What a contrast between the 
glorious burst of sunshine that now illumined and made glad every 
thing around these memorable spots, with the gloomy and desolate 
remembrances of '76 ! Then his country's champion, with the 
wreck of a shattered host, was flying before a victorious and well- 
appointed foe, while all around him M-as shrouded in the darkness 
of despair ; now, in his glorious progress over the self-same route, 
his firm footstep presses upon the soil of an infant empire, reposing 
in the joys of peace, independence, and happiness. 

"Among the many who swelled his triumph, the most endeared 
to the heart of the chief were the old associates of his toils, his for- 
tunes, and his fame. Many of the revolutionary veterans were 
living in 1790, and, by their presence, gave a dignified tone and 
character to all public assemblages ; and, when you saw a pecu- 
liarly fine-looking soldier in those old days, and would ask, ' to 
what corps of the American army did you belong?' Drawing him- 
self up to his full height, with a martial air, and back of the hand 
thrown up to his forehead, the veteran would reply, ' Life Guard, 
your honour.' 

" And proud and happy were these veterans in again beholding 
their own good Lady Washington. Greatly was she beloved in 
the army. Her many intercessions with the chief for the pardon 
of offenders ; her kindness to the sick and wounded ; all of which 
caused her annual arrival in camp to be hailed as an event that 
would serve to dissipate the gloom of the winter quarters. 

'< Arrived at the line, the Jersey escort was reheved by the cavalry 
of Pennsylvania, and, when near to Philadelphia, the President was 
met by Governor Miflflin and a brilHant cortege of ofl^icers, and 
escorted by a squadron of horse to the city. Conspicuous among 
the governor's suite, as well for his martial bearing as for the manly 
beauty of his person, was General Walter Stewart, a son of Erin, 
and a gallant and distinguished officer of the Pennsylvania line. 
To Stewart, as to Cadwallader, Washington was most warmly at- 
tached ; indeed, those officers were among the very choicest of the 
contributions of Pennsylvania to the army and cause of independ- 
ence. Mifflin, small in stature, was active, alert, ' every inch a 



536 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

soldier.' He was a patriot of great influence in Pennsylvania in 
the 'times that tried men's souls,' and nobly did he exert that 
influence in raising troops, with which to reinforce the wreck of the 
grand army at the close of the campaign of '76. 

'< Arrived within the city, the crowd became intense ; the Presi- 
dent left his carriage and mounted the white charger ; and, with 
the governor on his right, proceeded to the city tavern in Third 
street, where quarters were prepared for him, the light infantry, 
after some time, having opened a passage for the carriages. At 
the city tavern the President was received by the authorities of 
Philadelphia, who welcomed the chief magistrate to their city as to 
his home for tlie remainder of his presidential term. A group of 
old and long-tried friends were also in waitin":. Foremost amonir 
these, and first to grasp the hand of Washington, was one who was 
always nearest to his heart, a patriot and public benefactor, Robert 
Morris. 

" After remaining a short time in Philadelphia, the President 
speeded on his journey to that home where he ever found rest from 
his mighty labours, and enjoyed the sweets of rural and domestic 
happiness amid his farms and at his fireside of Mount Vernon." 

The meeting of Congress soon summoned him to Philadelphia. 
He met the legislature with a speech consistent with his former 
views and policy, breathing the purest intentions of a devoted 
patriot. Though he was unanimously applauded by Congress, a 
different feeling was very soon excited, and the friends of state 
rights and limited government startled into decided opposition by 
the projects of the Secretary of the Treasury. One of his proposi- 
tions, to tax domestic distilled spirits, was warmly resisted, and 
engendered able and protracted debates. Its opponents contended 
that imposts collected on any domestic manufacture wore the sem- 
blance of a foreign power intruding itself into their particular con- 
cerns, and excited serious apprehensions for state importance and 
for liberty.* Pennsylvania, Maryland, North Carolina, and Vir- 
ginia, protested against it in strong and energetic terms. Another 
and more important scheme proposed by the head of the Treasury 
excited more discussion, while it awakened warmer feelings, and 
commenced a metaphysical debate which still continues, and is 
hardly likely to terminate among a people all equally free, and 
equally at liberty to participate in the administration of their own 
government. This was the scheme of a national bank, which 
arrayed parties in fierce opposition, and divided the cabinet to a 

* Marshall. 



JEFFERSON AND HAMILTON. 537 

degree that menaced its total rupture. Jefferson and Randolph 
were of opinion that Congress, in passing the bill, transcended 
the powers vested in them by the Constitution. General Hamilton, 
on the other hand, maintained it to be purely constitutional. 

It was not an easy task to unite two men of such opposite na- 
tures as Hamilton and Jefferson, and make them act in concert in 
the same cabinet. The critical state of affairs at the first adoption 
of the Constitution, and the impartial preponderance of Washington 
alone could accomplish it. He applied himself to it with consum- 
mate perseverance and wisdom. At heart, he felt a decided pre- 
ference for Hamilton and his views. "By some," said he, "he 
is considered an ambitious man, and, therefore, a dangerous one. 
That he is ambitious I readily grant, but his ambition is of that 
laudable kind which prompts a man to excel in whatever he takes 
in hand. He is enterprising, quick in his perceptions, and in his 
judgment intuitively great." 

UT it was only in 1798, in the freedom of retirement, 
that Washington spoke so explicitly. While in 
office, and between his two secretaries, he maintained 
towards them a strict reserve, and testified the same 
confidence in both. He believed both of them to 
be sincere and able ; both of them necessary to the 
country and to himself. Jefferson was to him, not only 
a connecting tie, a means of influence with the popular party which 
rarely became the opposition ; but he made use of him in the 
internal administration of his government as a counterpoise to the 
tendencies, and especially to the language, sometimes extravagant 
and inconsiderate, of Hamilton and his friends. He had interviews 
and consultations with each of them separately, upon the subjects 
which they were to discuss together, in order to remove or lessen 
beforehand their differences of opinion. He knew how to turn the 
merit and popularity of each with his own party, to the general 
good of the government, even to their own mutual advantage. He 
skilfully availed himself of every opportunity to employ them in a 
common responsibility. And when a disagreement too wide, and 
passions too impetuous, seemed to threaten an immediate rupture, 
he interposed, used exhortation and entreaty, and by his personal 
influence, by a frank and touching appeal to the patriotism and 
right-hiindedness of the two rivals, he postponed the breaking forth 
of the evil which it was not possible to eradicate. On the bank 
question, he required from each his arguments in writing, and after 
maturely weighing them both, he gave the sanction of his signature 
(58 




538 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

to the act passed by Congress for its incorporation. From the 
moment of the incorporation of the Bank of the Lnited States, par- 
ties assumed the almost perfect forms of organization and princi- 
ples by which they are marked in our own day. The arguments 
and imputations of the republican party, however, were not so 
much intended to apply to Washington and his measures as to 
Colonel Hamilton, who was considered and acknowledged by all 
as the head of the federal party. This fact was sufficiently proved 
when Washington, at the close of the session of Congress, made 
an excursion into the Southern States. His reception by men of 
all parties was ample testimony of the fact that he united all 
hearts, and that, however the measures or the constitution of go- 
vernment might be censured and disapproved, none would refuse 
to pour the grateful homage of free hearts into the bosom of their 
veteran chief. 

The first session of the second Conoress assembled on the 24th 
of October, 1791, at Philadelphia. The most important bill which 
came under their notice, was one for the apportionment of the 
representation : the Federalists taking sides in favour of a limited 
representation, while the Republicans contended for an increase of 
the numbers of the House, sufficient to allow what they termed a 
full representation of the people. On the 8th of May, Congress 
adjourned, having previously passed a bill augmenting the army 
to five thousand men. This was made necessary by the misfor- 
tunes connected with the war with the north-western Indians. 
The first expedition sent against them had been put under com- 
mand of General Harmar, who was defeated with considerable loss 
in the neiorhbourhood of Chilicothe. General St. Clair was sent on 
a second expedition, but was also defeated w4th great loss. Gene- 
ral Wayne was then selected to conduct another campaign, but the 
season was so far advanced before he was enabled to commence 
operations, that he did little more than march to the intended 
th2ntre of operations. Here he erected a fort called Fort Recovery, 
and employed himself during the winter in disciplining his troop^, 
and making preparations for advancing early into the Indian set- 
tlements. 

On the 8th of August, 1794, he reached the confluence of the 
Au Glaize and the Miamis of the Lakes, with out^ opposition. 
This was thirty miles from the British post on t^gflHdll Wthe 
Lakes, near which about two thousand Indians were^ollected. 
General Wayne's legion was about equal » nurab^Pand the 
militia force joined with it amounted to ellBven hundred men. 



il 



INDIANS DEFEATED BY WAYNE. 541 

From the 14th to the 19th, Wayne moved cautiously down the 
Miami, and on the 20th a battle took place. 

The Indians had advanced into a thick wood, in front of the Bri- 
tish works, and had taken a position inaccessible to cavalry, and 
of very difficult access to infantry. They were formed in three 
lines, near enough to support each other, and greatly extended in 
front. On the discharge of the first rifles, the legion was instantly 
formed, the front ordered to advance with trailed arms, and with 
their bayonets to drive the enemy from their hiding places, then deli- 
ver their first fire, and press the fugitives so briskly as not to allow 
them time to load. So rapid was the charge, and so entirely was 
the enemy broken by it, that in the course of one hour they were 
driven more than two miles, through thick woods, and within gun- 
shot of the British fort. General Wayne remained for three days 
in front of the field of battle, laying waste the houses and corn- 
fields, above and below, and within pistol-shot of the British fort. 
In the conflagration, the houses and stores of Colonel McKee, an 
English trader, who had encouraged the savages to continue the 
war, were reduced to ashes. On the 28th, the army returned to 
Au Glaize and destroyed all the villages and corn within fifty miles 
of the river. The confidence which the Indians had acquired from 
their former victories was destroyed by this total defeat. They 
found themselves not only vanquished, but driven from their coun- 
try, with the prospect of famine from the total destruction of their 
cornfields. Their calamities disposed them to peace, and a treaty 
was concluded in August, 1795, by General Wayne, which put 
an end to the Indian wars, at that period, with the United States. 




2Z 



542 



LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 




CHAPTER XXIII. 

HE administrative talents of Washington 
were once more to be exercised for the 
service of his country. With great reluc- 
tance he had consented not to decline a 
second election, and on the 5th of March, 
1793, he took the oath of office, and en- 
tered upon the second term of his admin- 
istration. He had again received the 
unanimous vote of the electors. Mr. 
Adams was re-elected to the Vice-presi- 
dency, having received seventy-seven votes of one hundred and 
thirty-two, the whole number. Fortunate was it for America that 
she possessed in the person of her chief magistrate, at this time, a 
man of so much wisdom, firmness, and weight of character. 
Hitherto the discussions and divisions which had occupied the 




THE FRENCH REVOLUTION. 543 

attention of the President and Congress had grown out of the do- 
mestic arrangements and circumstances, and were more fitted to 
warn and teach, than to bring danger upon the people. But on 
the breaking out of the French Revohition, principles and views 
Avere developed which, without respect to time, place, or national 
peculiarity, were held up as perfectly new and unexceptionable 
models, whose universal applicability was stoutly and presumptu- 
ously asserted. The directors of that revolution required a uni- 
versal assent to their favourite doctrine that the new political 
wisdom of the great people of France must be cordially and thank- 
fully received, and defended with united powers against all oppo- 
nents in every part of the earth. 

Towards France and her revolution Washington deported him- 
self on the great truth that every nation possessed a right to 
govern itself according to its own will, to change its institutions at 
discretion, and to transact its business through whatever agents it 
might think proper. But as war had just commenced between 
France and Great Britain, his correct, sound judgment, instantly 
decided that a perfect neutrality was the right, the duty, and the 
interest of the United States ; and of this he gave public notice by 
a proclamation, in April, 1793. Subsequent events have proved 
the wisdom of this measure, though it was then reprobated by 
many. The war between the late enemies and friends of the 
United States revived revolutionary feelings in the breasts of the 
citizens, and enlisted the strongest passions of human nature 
against one, and in favour of the other. A wish for the success of 
France was almost universal ; and many were willing to hazard 
the peace of their country, by taking an active part in the war in 
her favour. The proclamation was at variance with the feelings 
and the passions of a large portion of the citizens. To compel 
the observance of neutrality, under these circumstances, was no 
easy matter. Hitherto Washington had the people with him ; but 
in this case a large proportion was on the other side. His reso- 
lution was nevertheless unshaken ; and at the risk of popularity 
he persisted in promoting the real good of his fellow-citizens, in 
opposition to their own mistaken wishes and views. 

The President was soon openly and violently assaulted in the 
public prints for the proclamation of neutrahty. All governments 
were said to be hostile to liberty, and many insinuations were made 
against the administration, under the general class of those who 
abetted the tyranny of kings, or refused to succour a free people 
struggling for liberty against a combination of tyrants. These dis- 



544 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

positions were greatly increased by the arrival of Mr. Genet, the first 
minister plenipotentiary from the Republic of France to the United 
States. He landed April 8th, 1793, at Charleston, South Carolina, 
the contiguity of which to the West Indies fitted it to be a conve- 
nient resort for privateers. By the governor of the state, William 
Moultrie, and the citizens, he was received with ardour ap- 
proaching to enthusiasm. During his stay, which was for several 
days, he received unequivocal proofs of the warmest attachment to 
his person, his country, and its cause. Encouraged by these evi- 
dences of the good wishes of the people for the success of the 
French Revolution, he undertook to authorize the fitting and arming 
of vessels in that port, enlisting men, and giving commissions to 
vessels to cruise and commit hostilities on nations with which the 
United States were at peace. The captures made by these cruisers 
were to be tried, condemned, and sold, under the authority of 
Genet, who had not yet been recognised as a public minister by 
the government. 

Similar marks of enthusiastic attachment were lavished on 
Genet as he passed through the country between Charleston and 
Philadelphia. At Gray's Ferry, over the Schuylkill, he was met by 
crowds who flocked to do honour to the first ambassador of a 
republican allied nation. On the day after his arrival in Philadel- 
phia, he received addresses from societies and the inhabitants, 
who expressed their gratitude for the aids furnished by the French 
nation to the United States in their late struggle for liberty and 
independence, and unbounded exultation at the success of the 
French arms. Genet's answers to these addresses were well cal- 
culated to preserve the idea of a complete fraternity between the 
two nations, and that their interests were the same. 

After Genet had been thus accredited by the citizens of Phila- 
delphia, he was presented to the President and received with ex- 
pressions of a sincere and cordial regard for his. nation. In the 
conversation which took place on the occasion, Mr. Genet gave 
the most explicit assurances that France did not wish to engage 
the United States in the war between his country and Great Britain. 

While Mr. Genet was receiving these flattering marks of attention 
from the people, the British minister preferred a long catalogue 
of complaints against his proceedings at Charleston. This was 
founded on the acts already mentioned, which were calculated to 
make the United States instruments of hostility in the hands of 
France, against those with whom she was at war. These were 
farther aggravated by actual hostilities in the territories of the 



QUESTION OF NEUTRALITY. 545 

United States. The ship Grange, a British vessel, was captured 
by the French frigate L'Ambuscade, within the capes of the Dela- 
ware, while on her way from Philadelphia to the ocean. Of this 
ship, and of other illegal prizes, which were in the power of the 
American government, the British minister demanded restitution. 

The cabinet council of Washington was unanimous that every 
independent nation was exclusively sovereign in its own territories, 
and that the proceedings complained of were unwarranted usurpa- 
tions of sovereignty, and violations of neutrality ; and therefore 
must in future be prevented. It was also agreed that the efficacy 
of the laws should be tried against those citizens of the United 
States w^ho had joined in the offences complained of. The restitu- 
tion of the Grange was also agreed to ; but on the propriety of 
enforcing the restitution of prizes made on the high seas, there was 
a diversity of sentiment, the Secretaries of the Treasury and of War 
being for it,. and the Secretary of State and the Attorney-general 
against it. The principles on which a concurrence of sentiment 
had taken place being considered as settled, the Secretary of State 
was desired to communicate them to the ministers of France and 
of Britain ; and circular letters were written to the governors of - 
the several states requiring them to co-operate with force, if neces^ 
sary, to execute the rules which had been agreed upon. 

Mr. Genet was highly dissatisfied with these determinations, 
and considered them as subversive of the treaty between the United 
States and France. His representations induced a re-consideration 
of the subject; but on the most dispassionate review of it, no rea- 
son appeared for an alteration of any part of the system. The 
minister of France was further informed, that in the opinion of the 
President, the vessels which had been illegally equipped should 
not depart from the ports of the United States. 

Mr. Genet, adhering to his own construction of the treaty be- 
tween France and the United States, would not acquiesce in those 
decisions of the government. Intoxicated with the flattering atten- 
tions he had received, and ignorant of the firmness of the executive, 
he seems to have expected that the popularity of his nation and 
its cause would enable him to undermine the executive, or render 
it subservient to his views. 

About this time, two citizens of the United States, who had been 
engaged in Charleston by Mr. Genet to cruise in the service of 
France, were arrested by the civil authority, in pursuance of the 
determination formed by government to prosecute persons who had 
offended against the laws. Mr. Genet demanded their release as 
69 2z 2 



546 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

French citizens, in the most extraordinary terms. This was re- 
fused, but on trial they were acquitted by the verdict of a jury. 

The minister of the French repubUc was encouraged to this line 
of opposition by a belief that the sentiments of the people were in 
his favour. So extravagant was their enthusiastic devotedness to 
France ; so acrimonious were their expressions against all the 
powers at war with the new republic, that a person less sanguine 
than Mr. Genet might have cherished the hope of being able to 
succeed so far with the people as, with their support, ultimately to 
triumph over the opposition he experienced. At civic festivals, 
the ensigns of France were displayed in union w^ith those of Ame- 
rica ; at these the cap of liberty passed from head to head, and 
toasts were given expressive of the fraternity of the two nations. 
The proclamation of neutrality w^as treated as a royal edict, which 
demonstrated the disposition of the government to break its con- 
nections with France, and dissolve the friendship which united the 
people of the two republics. The scenes of the revolutionary war 
were brought into view ; the effects of British hostility against the 
United States, and of French aids both in men and money in their 
favour, were painted in glowing colours. The enmity of Britain 
to the United States was represented as continuing undiminished ; 
and in proof of it, their detention of the western posts, and their excit- 
ing from these stations the neighbouring Indians to make war on the 
frontier settlers, were urged with great vehemence, and contrasted 
with the amicable dispositions professed by the French republic. 
It was indignantly asked, should a friend and an enemy be treated 
with equal favour ? By declamations of this kind daily issuing 
from the press, the public mind was so inflamed against the execu- 
tive, that Genet, calculating on the partialities of the people, openly 
insulted the government ; and adhering to his own construction of 
the treaty, that he had a right to do as he had done, threatened to 
appeal to the sovereign people against their President. 

To preserve neutrality in such a crisis w^as no easy matter. 
Washington, adhering to the principles avowed in his late proclama- 
tion and imbodied in the Declaration of Independence, "that the 
United States would hold all mankind enemies in war and friends 
in peace," exerted all his authority and influence to keep the 
balance even between the belligerents. 

It was at length resolved by Washington to instruct Mr. Morris, 
the minister of the United States at Paris, to request the recall of 
Mr. Genet ; and that Mr. Morris should be furnished with all the 
necessary documents to evince the propriety of the request. What 



MONROE SENT TO FRANCE. 



547 




was asked was granted ; 
and Mr. Genet's conduct 
was disapproved by his 
government. Mr. Fau- 
chet was appointed his 
successor, who was suc- 
ceeded by Mr. Adet. The 
successors of Genet con- 
tinued to tread in his 
footsteps, but with less 
violence. They made 
frequent complaints of 
particular cases of hard- 
ship, which grew out 
of the war and out of the 
rules which had been 
adopted by the executive 
with regard to ships of 
war, cruisers and their prizes. They complained particularly that 
in the treaty with Great Britain the principle of " free ships making 
free goods" was given up, and urged the injustice, while French 
cruisers were restrained by treaty from taking English goods out 
of American bottoms, that English cruisers should be liberated 
from the same restraint. In vain did the executive show a will- 
ingness to relieve France from the pressure of a situation in which 
she had voluntary placed herself. Private explanations were made, 
that neither the late treaty made with Britain, nor the arrangements 
growing out of it, furnished any real cause of complaint to 
France. 

The French republican government had requested the recall of 
Gouverneur Morris, and General Washington had appointed Mr. 
Monroe to represent the American interests in France, in May, 1794. 
He was received with distinguished favour by the government and 
people of that country, but his political principles differed from 
those of General Washington, whose views of neutrality were but 
poorly conformed to by the course of the minister. Mr. Monroe 
was therefore recalled by the President in 1796. He published a 
volume explaining and vindicating his views and proceedings, and 
censuring the policy of the administration towards the French re- 
public, but he did not suffer political differences to estrange his 
affections from Washington, nor to prevent his acknowledging the 
merits and perfect integrity of that great man. 



548 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

With the same conciliatory view which occasioned the mission 
of Monroe, Washington appointed General Pinckney minister 
plenipotentiary to the French republic, " to maintain that good 
understanding, which, from the commencement of the alliance, 
had subsisted between the two nations, and to efface unfavourable 
impressions, banish suspicion, and restore that cordiality which 
was at once the evidence and pledge of a friendly union." The 
Directory having inspected his letter of credence, announced their 
haughty determination, '< not to receive another minister from the 
United States until, after a redress of grievances demanded of the 
American government, which the French republic had a right to 
expect from it." This was followed by a written mandate to 
General Pinckney, to quit the territories of the republic. To com- 
plete the system of hostility, American vessels, wherever found, 
were captured by French cruisers. 

With Spain, however, the President succeeded in amicably ad- 
justing all controversies the same year that brought round peace 
with the Indians. Some of the western settlers had been willing 
to sacrifice country, allegiance, and every thing to their interest. 
Others had been disposed to force their way down the Mississippi, 
to the gulf of Mexico, though the waters should be crimsoned with 
blood. But the more moderate and judicious citizens, adhering to 
the government, and knowing their present inability to force the 
free navigation of the Mississippi, made up their mind to wait 
events, and patiently submit to a present inconvenience in hopes of 
a change for the better. These hopes were realized sooner than they 
expected. The war between republican France and Spain taught 
the latter the importance of the friendship of the United States. 
Among other daring projects of the new repubUc of France, was 
one to revolutionize Spanish America, by the aid of the western 
American settlers, co-operating with a French force, to be intro- 
duced through Georgia or Florida and commanded by Mr. Genet. 
But Washington, though zealous for the free use of the Mississippi, 
would not permit a foreign nation to attack the Spanish settlements 
from the United States ; and a scheme which, with his connivance 
alone, would probably have been successful, was thus defeated. 
How far this magnanimous policy influenced the court of Madrid to 
seek the friendship of the United States, is not known, but we 
can hardly suppose it to have been without effect, as almost at the 
same time the commissioners of Spain, at Philadelphia, gave hints 
of the practicability of expediting the negotiations which had, whh 
little interruption, been protracted without any prospect of termi- 



TREATIES WITH SPAIN AND ENGLAND. 549 

nation for nearty fifteen j-ears. These hints were attended to, and 
Mr. Thomas Pinckney M^as appointed envoy extraordinary to his 
Catholic majesty. Shortly after his arrival in Madrid, he con- 
cluded a treaty with the king of Spain, in which the claims of the 
United States on the important points of boundary and the naviga- 
tion of the Mississippi, were fully conceded. Thus the justice, 
moderation, and good faith of the government finally succeeded in 
procuring important advantages for the United States without either 
w^ar or dishonour.* 

Two years after the ineffectual attempt made by the American 
government through its informal agent Mr. Morris, to bring about 
a better understanding with the court of St. James, -the British 
ministry, finding that the new government had become everywhere 
respected for stability and energy, appointed of their own accord, 
as minister to the United States, Mr. Hammond. This advance 
induced the President soon after to send Mr. Thomas Pinckney to 
the court of Great Britain, in a similar diplomatic capacity. 

In America, the tide of popular opinion ran as strongly against 
Britain as in favour of France. The former was accused of insti- 
gating the Indians to acts of hostiUty against the United States ; of 
impressing their sailors, of illegally capturing their ships, and of 
stirring up the Algerines against them. The whole of this hostility 
was referred to a jealousy of the growing importance of the United 
States. Motions were made in Congress for sequestering debts to 
the British subjects, for entering into commercial hostility with 
Great Britain, and even for interdicting all intercourse with her, till 
she pursued other measures with respect to the United States. 
Every appearance portended immediate war between the two coun- 
tries. The passionate admirers of France wished for it ; while 
others, more attached to British systems, dreaded a war with Great 
Britain, as being likely to throw the United States into the arms of 
France. In this state of things, when war seemed inevitable, the 
President composed the troubled scene by nominating John Jay, in 
April, 1794, envoy extraordinary to the court of London. By this 
measure a truce was obtained, which led to an adjustment of the 
points in controversy between the two countries. The exercise of 
the constitutional right of the President to negotiate, virtually sus- 
pended all hostile legislative measures ; for these could not with 
delicacy or propriety be urged, while the executive was in the act 
of treating for an amicable adjustment of differences. 

A treaty between the United States and Great Britain was the 

* Ramsay. 



550 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

result of this mission. This was pronounced by Mr. Jay " to be 
the best that was attainable, and which he believed it for the interest 
of the United States to accept." While the treaty was before the 
Senate for consideration, a member, contrary to the rules of that 
body, furnished an editor of a newspaper with a copy of it. This 
being published, operated like a spark of fire applied to combusti- 
ble materials. The angry passions which for some short time had 
been smothered, broke out afresh. Some went so far as to pro- 
nounce the treaty a surrender of their power to their late enemy. 
Great Britain, and a dereliction of their tried friend and ally, 
France. The more moderate said, that too much was given and 
too little received. Meetings of the people were held at Boston, 
New York, Philadelphia, Baltimore, Charleston, and several other 
places, in which the treaty was pronounced to be unworthy of ac- 
ceptance, and petitions were agreed upon and forwarded to the 
President, urging him to refuse his signature to the obnoxious in- 
strument. 

These agitations furnished matter for serious reflection to the 
President, but they did not affect his conduct, though they induced 
a reiterated examination of the subject. In a private letter to a 
friend, after reciting the importance of the crisis, he added, — 
" There is but one straight course, and that is to seek truth and to 
pursue it steadily." It is probable that he had early made up his 
mind to ratify the treaty as better than none, and infinitely better 
ihan war; but regretted that it was so generally disliked, and consi- 
dered by many as made with a design to oppress the French republic. 
Under the weight of his high responsibihty, he consoled himself, 
'< that in time when passion shall have yielded to reason, the cur- 
rent may possibly turn." Peace with all the world was his policy, 
where it could be preserved with honour. War he considered as 
an evil of such magnitude as never to be entered upon without the 
most imperious necessity. The mission of Mr. Jay was his last 
effort for the preservation of peace with Great Britain. The rejec- 
tion of the treaty which resulted from this mission, he considered 
as the harbinger of war ; for negotiation having failed to redress 
grievances, no alternative but war was left. By this prudent con- 
duct the rising states were preserved in peace. But the bicker- 
ings of the citizens among themselves, and their animosities against 
Great Britain, still continued. The popularity of the President for 
the present was diminished ; but this he had anticipated. In a 
letter to General Knox, he observes : 

« Next to a conscientious discharge of my public duties, to 



OPPOSITION TO JAY'S TREATY. 551 

carry along with me the approbation of my constituents would be 
the highest gratification of which my mind is susceptible. But the 
latter being secondary, I cannot make the former yield to it, un- 
less some criterion more infallible than partial (if they are not 
party) meetings, can be discovered as the touchstone of public sen- 
timent. If any person on earth could, or the Great Power above 
would erect the standard of infallibility in political opinions, no 
being that inhabits this terrestrial globe would resort to it with 
more eagerness than myself, so long as I remain a servant of the 
public. But as I have hitherto found no better guide than upright 
intentions, and close investigation, I shall adhere to them while I 
keep the watch." 

After the treaty was duly ratified, an attempt was made to ren- 
der it a dead letter by refusing the appropriations of money neces- 
sary to carry it into effect. Preparatory to this, a motion was 
made for the adoption of a resolution to request the President to 
lay before the House of Representatives a copy of his instructions 
to Mr. Jay, together with the correspondence and other documents 
relative to the treaty with Great Britain. This involved a new 
question, where the treaty-making power was constitutionally 
lodged ? The debate was animated and vehement. Appeals 
were made both to reason and passion. After a discussion of 
more than twenty days, the motion was carried in the affirmative 
by a majority of twenty-five votes. When the resolution was pre^ 
sented to the President, he replied " that he would take time to 
consider it." His situation was peculiarly deUcate : the passions 
of the people were strongly excited against the treaty ; the popu- 
larity of the demand being solely for information ; the large major- 
ity by which the vote was carried ; the suspicions that would pro- 
bably attach in case of refusal — that circumstances had occurred 
in the course of the negotiation, which the President was afraid 
to publish, added to other weighty considerations, would have 
induced minds of an ordinary texture to yield to the request. 
With Washington, popularity was only a second object. To fol- 
low the path of duty and the public good was a primary one. He 
had sworn to " preserve, protect, and defend the Constitution." 
In his opinion, the treaty-making power was exclusively given 
by the people in convention to the executive, and the pubhc 
good required that it should be so exercised. He therefore sent 
an answer to the House, in which he stated coolly, and forcibly, 
the reasons why the House of Representatives, w^hich has no part 
in the treaty-making power, cannot be constitutionally entitled to 



552 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

the papers called for ; and concluded with saying : << A first re- 
gard to the Constitution and to the duty of my office, under all 
the circumstances of this case, forbids a compliance with your 
request." 

Though the call for papers was unsuccessful, the favourers of the 
resolution for that purpose opposed the appropriations necessary to 
carry the treaty into effect ; but from the firmness of the President, 
the ground was altered. The treaty was ratified, and proclaimed 
to the public as constitutionally obligatory on the citizens. To 
refuse appropriations for carrying it into effect would not only incur 
the high responsibility of breaking the public faith, but make a 
schism in the government between the executive and legislative 
departments. After long and vehement debates, in which argu- 
ment and passion were both resorted to, with the view of exposing 
the merits and demerits of the treaty, the resolution for bringing in 
the laws necessary to carry it into effect was carried by a majority 
of three. Though, in this discussion, Washington had no direct 
agency, yet the final result in favour of the treaty was the conse- 
quence of the measures he had previously adopted. For having 
ratified the treaty and published it to the world as the law of the 
land, and having in his answer to the request of the House of Rep- 
resentatives, proved that he had a constitutional right so to do, the 
laws necessary for giving effect to the treaty could not be withheld 
without hazarding the most serious consequences. 

The treaty which was thus carried into operation, produced 
more good and less evil than was apprehended. It compromised 
ancient differences, produced amicable dispositions, and a friendly- 
intercourse. It brought round a peaceable surrender of the British 
posts, and compensation for American vessels illegally captured. 
Though it gave up some favourite principles, and some of its arti- 
cles relative to commerce were deemed unequal, yet from Britain, 
as a great naval power, holding valuable colonies and foreign pos- 
sessions, nothing better, either with or without the treaty, could 
have been obtained. 

After the lapse of ten years has cooled the minds both of the 
friends and the enemies of the treaty, most men will acknowledge 
that the measures adopted by Washington with respect to it, were 
founded in wisdom ; proceeded from the purest patriotism ; were 
carried through with uncommon firmness : and finally eventuated 
in advancing the interests of his country. 

Gradually the first cabinet of Washington had become entirely 
changed. Mr. Jefferson retired first at the end of the year 1793. 



THE WHISKY INSURRECTION. 



553 




Mr, Randolph was ap- 
pointed to succeed him, 
and the office of attorney- 
general vacated by Mr. 
Randolph was filled by 
Mr. Bradford, of Pennsyl- 
vania. Thirteen months 
afterwards, Mr. Hamilton 
resigned his post at the 
head of the Treasury, 
owing to the inadequate 
amount of his salary. The 
same cause induced the 
resignation of the Secreta- 
ry of War, General Knox. 
Oliver Wolcott, of Con- 
necticut, succeeded Ham- 
ilton, and Timothy Pickering succeeded General Knox. In August, 
1795, Mr, Randolph retired from the office of Secretary of State. 
Mr. McHenry was then called to the head of the War Department, 
while Mr. Pickering was transferred to the office of Secretary of State, 
Colonel Pickering's highest eulogy has been spoken by the eloquent 
lips of John Randolph. That gentleman, on the floor of Congress, 
spoke of him as one " whom, whatever may be said of him, all will 
allow to be an honest man. The other day, when on the compensa- 
tion question, he was speaking of his own situation ; when his voice 
faltered, and his eyes filled at the mention of his poverty, I thought 
I M'ould have given the riches of Dives himself for his feelings at the 
moment ; for his poverty was not the consequence of idleness, or ex- 
travagance, or luxury, nor of the gambling spirit of speculation : it 
was an honourable poverty, after a life spent in laborious service, 
and in the highest offices of trust under government, during the 
war of independence as well as under the present Constitution," 

The violent opposition to the excise law by a portion of the peo- 
ple, particularly in the interior of Pennsylvania, where meetings 
were held, and the revenue officers threatened with personal injury, 
induced Congress, in May, 1792, to pass an act authorizing the 
President to call out the militia to assist in executing the laws, if 
he should deem proper. The President, being reluctant to employ 
military force, issued a proclamation exhorting the people to desist 
from all illegal acts and meetings, but these effiarts proved inef- 
fectual. The discontents continued, until, in August, 1794, the 



70 



3 A 



554 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

"whisky insurrection" had assumed so serious a character in 
Western Pennsylvania, that an army of volunteers and militia was 
formed to suppress it, numbering about fifteen thousand men. 
The insurgents did not venture to meet this force, the insurrection 
ceased, and the excise law was enforced. 

The third Congress of the United States, which first assembled 
in December, 1793, was about equally divided between the two 
great political parties. During the interval between the final 
adjournment of the third Congress and the meeting of the fourth, a 
treaty was made with Algiers, by Mr. Donaldson, acting under 
Colonel Humphreys, the United States consul at Portugal. The 
terms were disadvantageous, but the best that could be obtained. 
When the first session of the fourth Congress was commenced, it 
was found that the friends of the administration had increased their 
majority in the Senate, while the House of Representatives showed 
a majority in opposition. In the answer to the President's speech, 
the House of Representatives refused to adopt a report returned by 
their committee, until some expressions of undiminished confidence 
were changed. Their measures in opposition to the British treaty 
expressed still further their dissatisfaction with the measures of the 
administration. Several important acts were adopted at this session, 
among which was one establishing agencies among the Indian 
tribes, and another making provision for the sale of the public 
lands. Another provided for the relief and protection of American 
seamen, and on the last day of the session, June 1st, 1796, Ten- 
nessee was admitted into the Union. 

After the adjournment of Congress, the third election for Presi- 
dent engaged the public attention. General Washington was ear- 
nestly solicited to be a candidate for re-election, but positively 
declined. He had been forced, as it were, from the enjoyment of 
private life, by the power of public opinion, and considerations of 
national usefulness ; but he had yielded to this coercion with painfiil 
reluctance. He had conducted the ship of state through the 
stormy tempests of domestic discord and foreign aggression, and 
now that he supposed her safely moored, he turned his eyes to the 
shades of Mount Vernon, with longings for tranquillity and repose. 
Another motive had much weight with him in the formation of this 
resolution: the estabhshment, by a precedent, of a wholesome limit 
to executive power, which the Constitution had left open to an 
indefinite practice. 

In September, 1796, he announced his intention to the people, 
in his memorable Farewell Address. In this document he made 



THE THIRD PRESIDENCY. 555 

a last effort to impress upon his countrymen those great political 
truths which had been the guides of his own administration, and 
could alone form a sure and solid basis for the happiness, the inde- 
pendence, and the liberty of the United States. The sentiments 
of veneration with which this address was generally received were 
manifested in almost every part of the Union. Some of the state 
legislatures directed it to be inserted, at large in their journals ; and 
nearly all of them passed resolutions expressing their respect for 
the President, their high sense of his exalted services, and the 
emotions with which they contemplated his retirement from office. 

The person in whom alone the voice of the people could be 
united having declined a re-election, the two great parties in the 
United States respectively brought forward their chiefs, and every 
possible effort was made by each to obtain the victory. By the 
federalists, Mr. John Adams and Mr. Thomas Pinckney, the late 
minister to England, were supported as President and Vice-presi- 
dent ; the republican party united in support of Mr. Jefferson. In 
November, while the election, was pending, and parties were so 
nearly balanced that neither scale could be perceived to prepon- 
derate, Mr. Adet, the minister of France, addressed a letter to the 
Secretary of State, which he also caused to be immediately published, 
in which he recapitulated the numerous complaints which had 
been urged by himself and his predecessors against the govern- 
ment of the United States ; reproached that government in terms 
of great asperity with violating those treaties which had secured its 
independence, with ingratitude to France, and with partiality to 
England. He also announced orders of the Directory to suspend 
his ministerial functions with the federal government, a suspension 
which was not, however, to be regarded as a rupture between 
France and the United States, but as a mark of just discontent, 
which was to last until the government of the United States re- 
turned to sentiments and to measures more conformable to the inte- 
rests of the alliance, and to the sworn friendship between the two 
nations. It can scarcely be doubted that this extraordinary pro- 
ceeding was intended to influence the people in the election of a 
new President, but if it produced any effect upon the result of that 
election, it was to render more determined and more vigorous 
the exertions of the friends of that candidate whose election Mr, 
Adet deprecated.* 

On the 7th of December, 1796, Washington met Congress for 
the last time. His address on the occasion was highly dignified, 

* Marshall. 



556 LIFE OF WASHINGTCJjJ; 

He congratulated Congress on the internal situation of the United 
States ; on the progress which had been made for preserving peace 
with the Indians and meliorating their condition, and after stating 
the measures which had been adopted in execution of the treaties 
with Britain, Spain, and Algiers, and the negotiations which were 
-* pending with Tunis and Tripoli, he observed: — "To an active 
external commerce, the protection of a naval force is indispensable. 
This is manifest with regard to wars in which a state is itself a 
party. But besides this, it is in our own experience, that the 
most sincere neutrality is not a sufficient guard against the depreda- 
tions of nations at war. To secure respect to a neutral flag, re- 
quires a naval force, organized and ready to vindicate it from in- 
sult or aggression. This may even prevent the necessity of going 
to M^ar, by discouraging belligerent powers from committing such 
violations of the rights of the neutral party, as may first or last 
leave no other option. From the best information I have been able 
to obtain, it would seem as if our trade to the Mediterranean, 
without a protecting force, will always be insecure, and our citizens 
exposed to the calamities from which numbers of them have but 
just been relieved. 

" These considerations invite the United States to look to the 
means, and to set about the gradual creation of a navy. The in- 
creasing progress of their navigation promises them, at no distant 
period, the requisite supply of seamen, and their means in other 
respects favour the undertaking. It is an encouragement likewise, 
that their particular situation will give weight and influence to a 
moderate naval force in their hands. Will it not then be advisable 
to begin without delay, to provide and, lay up the materials for the 
building and equipping of ships of war, and to proceed in the 
work by degrees, in proportion as our resources shall render it 
practicable, without inconvenience, so that a future war of Europe 
may not find, our commerce in the same unprotected state in which 
it was found by the present ?" 

He then recommended the establishment of national works for 
manufacturing implements of defence ; of an institution for the 
improvement of agriculture ; and pointed out the advantages of a 
military academy, of a national university, and the necessity of 
augmenting the salaries of the officers of the United States. 

In respect to the disputes with France, he observed : — " While 
in our external relations some serious inconveniences and embar- 
rasments have been overcome, and others lessened, it is with much 
pain and deep regret I mention, that circumstances of a very un- 



FAREWELL ADDRESS. 557 

wflcome nature have lately accrued. Our trade has suffered and is 
suffering extensive injuries in the West Indies, from the cruisers 
and agents of the French republic, and communications have been 
received for its minister here, which indicate the danger of a further 
disturbance of our commerce by its authority ; and which are in 
other respects far from agreeable. 

" It has been my constant, sincere, and earnest wish, in confor- 
mity with that of our nation, to maintain cordial harmony and a 
perfectly friendly understanding with that republic. This wish 
remains unabated, and I shall persevere in the endeavour to fulfil it, 
to the utmost extent of what shall be consistent with a just and in- 
dispensable regard to the rights and honour of our country ; nor 
will I easily cease to cherish the expectation that a spirit of justice, 
candour, and friendship, on the part of the republic, will eventually 
ensure success. 

"In pursuing this course, however, I cannot forget what is due to 
the character of our government and nation, or to a full and entire 
confidence in the good sense, patriotism, self-respect, and fortitude 
of my countrymen." 

This address was concluded in the following pathetic terms : 

'< The situation in which I now stand for the last time, in the 
midst of the representatives of the people of the United States, 
naturally recalls the period when the administration of the present 
f )rm of government commenced ; and I cannot omit the occasion 
to congratulate you and my country on the success of the experi- 
ment, nor to repeat ray fervent supplications to the Supreme Ruler 
of the universe, and sovereign arbiter of nations, that his provi- 
dential care may still be extended to the United States ; that the 
virtue and happiness of the people may be preserved ; and that 
the government which they have instituted for the protection of 
their liberties may be perpetual." 

The pleasing emotions which are excited in ordinary men on 
their acquisition of power, were inferior to those which Washing- 
ton felt on the resignation of it. To his tried friend, General 
Knox, on the day preceding the termination of his office, he ob- 
served in a letter : '< To the weary traveller who sees a resting 
place and is bending his body thereon, I now compare myself. 
Although the prospect of retirement is most grateful to my soul, 
and I have not a wish to mix again in the great world, or to partake 
in its politics, yet I am not without regret at parting with (perhaps 
never more to meet) the few intimates whom I love. Among these 
be assured you are one." 

3 a3 



558 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

The numerous calumnies of which Washington was the subject, 
drew from him no pubhc animadversions, except in one case. A 
volume of letters, said to be from General Washington to John 
Parke Custis and Lund Washington, were published by the British, 
in the year 1776, and were given to the public as being found in a 
small portmanteau, left in the care of his servant, who, it was said 
by the editors, had been taken prisoner in Fort Lee. These letters 
were intended to produce in the public mind impressions unfavour- 
able to the integrity of Washington's motives, and to represent his 
inclinations as at variance with his profession and duty. When 
the first edition of these spurious letters was forgotten, they were 
republished during Washington's civil administration, by some of 
his fellow-citizens who differed from him in politics. On the morn- 
ing of the last day of his Presidency he addressed a letter to the 
Secretary of State, in which, after enumerating all the facts and 
dates connected with the forgery, and declaring that he had hitherto 
deemed it unnecessary to take any formal notice of the imposition, 
he concluded as follows :• — " But as I cannot know how soon a 
more serious event may succeed to that which will this day take 
place, I have thought it a duty that I owed to myself, to my country, 
and to truth, now to detail the circumstances above recited, and to 
add my solemn declaration that the letters herein described are a 
base forgery, and that I never saw or heard of them until they 
appeared in print. The present letter I commit to your care, and 
desire it may be deposited in the office of the Department of State 
as a testimony of the truth to the present generation and to pos- 
terity." 

The moment now approached which was to terminat*the official 
character of Washington, and in which that of his successor, John 
Adams, was to commence. The old and new President walked in 
together to the House of Representatives, where the oath of office 
was administered to the latter. On this occasion Mr. Adams con- 
cluded an impressive speech with a handsome compliment to his 
predecessor, by observing that though he was about to retire, " his 
name may still be a rampart and the knowledge that he lives a 
bulwark against all open or secret enemies of his country." 

The immense concourse of citizens who w^ere present gazed with 
love and affection on the retiring Washington, while cheerfulness 
overspread his countenance and joy filled his heart, on seeing an- 
other invested with the high authorities he so long exercised, and 
the way opened for his returning to the long-wished-for happiness 
of domestic private life. After paying his respects to the new 



RETROSPECT OF HIS ADMINISTRATION. 559 

President, he set out for Mount Vernon, the scene of enjoyment 
' which he preferred to all others. His wishes to travel privately were 
in vain ; for wherever he passed, the gentlemen of the country took 
every occasion of testifying their respect for him. In his retire- 
ment he continued to receive the most flattering addresses from 
legislative bodies, and various classes of his fellow- citizens. 

During the eight years' administration of Washington, the United 
States enjoyed prosperity and happiness at home ; and, by the 
energy of the government, regained among foreigners that import- 
ance and reputation, which, by its weakness, they had lost. The 
debts contracted in the Revolutionary War, which, from the imbe- 
cility of the old government, had depreciated to an insignificant 
sum, were funded ; and such ample revenues provided for the 
payment of the interest and the gradual extinction of the principal, 
that their real and nominal value were, in a little time, nearly the 
same. The government was so firmly established as to be cheer- 
fully and universally obeyed. The only exception was an insur- 
rection in the western counties of Pennsylvania, which was quelled 
without bloodshed. Agriculture and commerce were extended far 
beyond what had ever before taken place. The Indians on the fron- 
tiers had been first compelled by force to respect the United States, 
and to continue in peace ; and afterv^'ards a humane system was com- 
menced for teaching them to exchange the tomahawk and scalping- 
knife for the plough, the hoe, the shuttle, and the spinning-wheel. 
The free navigation of the Mississippi had been acquired with the 
consent of Spain, and all differences compromised with that power. 
The military posts which had been long held by Britain within the 
United States, were peaceably given up. The Mediterranean was 
opened to American vessels in consequence of treaties made with 
the Barbary powers. Indeed, differences with all powers, either 
contiguous to or connected with the United States, had been ami- 
cably adjusted, with the exception of France. To accomphsh this 
very desirable object, Washington made repeated advances ; but it 
could not be obtained without surrendering the independence of 
the nation, and its right of self-government. 



560 



LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 




THE NEW TOMB OF WASHINGTON. 



CHAPTER XXIV 



iEagil Siajis ©f C;iTa^-})ing!t©i5, 




HE season of repose which now awaited 
him was as welcome as it was necessary 
to Washington. On returning to Mount 
Vernon, he resumed agricultural pursuits. 
These, with the society of men and books, 
gave to every hour innocent and interest- 
ing employment ; and promised a serene 
evening of his life. Though he wished 
to withdraw not only from public office, 
but from all anxiety respecting public affairs, yet he felt too much 
for his country to be indifferent to its interests. He heard with 
regret the repeated insults offered by the French Directory to the 
United States, in the person of their ministers, and the injuries 
done to their commerce, by illegal capture of their vessels. These 
indignities and injuries, after a long endurance and a rejection of 
all advances for an accommodation, at length roused the government, 
in the hands of Mr. Adams, to adopt vigorous measures. To be 
in readiness to repel a threatened invasion, Congress authorized 
the formation of a regular army. As soon as the adoption of this 



APPOINTED COMMANDER-IN-CHIEF. 563 

measure was probable, the eyes of all were once more turned on 
Washington as the most suitable person to be at its head. Letters 
from his friends poured in upon him, urging that he should accept 
the command. In one received from President Adams, it was 
observed, «We must have your name, if you will in any case per- 
mit us to use it ; there will be more efficacy in it than in many an 
army." A letter from the Secretary of War, written four days 
afterwards, concludes with asking, « may we flatter ourselves, that, 
in a crisis so awful and important, you will accept the command 
of all our armies. I hope you will, because you alone can unite all 
hearts and all hands, if it is possible that they can be united." In 
reply to this letter, Washington writes, "It cannot be necessary for 
me to premise to you, or to others who know my sentiments, that 
to quit the tranquilHty of retirement, and enter the boundless field 
of responsibility, would be productive of sensations which a better 
pen than I possess would find it difficult to describe. Nevertheless, 
the principle by which my conduct has been actuated through life, 
would not sufller me, in any great emergency, to withhold any ser- 
vices I could render when required by my country ; especially, in 
a case where its dearest rights are assailed by lawless ambition 
and intoxicated power, in contempt of every principle of justice, 
and in violation of solemn compact, and of laws which govern all 
civilized nations ; and this, too, with the obvious intent to sow 
thick the seeds of disunion, for the purpose of subjugating our 
government, and destroying our independence and happiness. 

"Under circumstances like these, accompanied by an actual 
invasion of our territory, it would be difficult for me at any time 
to remain an idle spectator, under the plea of age or retirement. 
With sorrow, it is true, I should quit the shades of my peaceful 
abode, and the ease and happiness I now enjoy, to encounter anew 
the turmoils of war, to which possibly my strength and powers 
might be found incompetent. These, however, should not be 
stumbling-blocks in my own way." 

President Adams nominated Washington with the rank of lieu- 
tenant-general, to the chief command of all the armies raised and 
to be raised in the United States. His commission was sent to 
him by Mr. McHenry, the Secretary of War, who was directed to 
repair to Mount Vernon, and to confer on the arrangements of the 
new army with its commander-in-chief. To the letter which Pre- 
sident Adams sent with the commission by the Secretary of War, 
Washington in tv,-o days replied as follows : 

"I had the honour, on the evening of the 11th instant, to receive 



564 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

from the hand of the Secretary of War, your favour of the 7th, 
announcing that you had, with the advice and consent of the Senate, 
appointed me 'Lieutenant-general and commander-in-chief of all 
the armies raised, or to be raised, for the service of the United 
States.' 

" I cannot express how greatly affected I am at this new proof 
of public confidence, and the highly flattering manner in which 
you have been pleased to make the communication. At the same 
time, I must not conceal from you my earnest wish, that the choice 
had fallen upon a man less declined in years, and better qualified 
to encounter the usual vicissitudes of war. 

"You know, sir, what calculation I had made relative to the pro- 
bable course of events on ray retiring from office, and the determi 
nation I had consoled myself with, of closing the remnant of my 
days in my present peaceful abode. You will therefore be at no 
loss to conceive and appreciate the sensations I must have experi- 
enced, to bring my mind to any conclusion that would pledge me, 
at so late a period of life, to leave scenes I sincerely love, to enter 
upon the boundless field of public action, incessant trouble, and 
high responsibility. 

<< It was not possible for me to remain ignorant of, or indiffer- 
ent to, recent transactions. The conduct of the Directory of France 
towards our country ; their insidious hostility to its government ; 
their various practices to withdraw the affections of the people from 
it ; the evident tendency of their acts, and those of their agents, to 
countenance and invigorate disaffection ; their disregard of solemn 
treaties and the laws of nations ; their war upon our defenceless 
commerce ; their treatment of our ministers of peace ; and their de- 
mands, amounting to tribute, could not fail to excite in me corre- 
sponding sentiments with those my countrymen have so generally 
expressed in their affectionate addresses to you. Believe me, sir, 
no one can more cordially approve of the wise and prudent measures 
of your administration. They ought to inspire universal confidence, 
and will, no doubt, combined with the state of things, call from 
Congress such laws and means as will enable you to meet the full 
force and extent of the crisis. 

" Satisfied, therefore, that you have sincerely wished and endea- 
voured to avert war, and exhausted to the last drop the cup of re- 
conciliation, we can with pure hearts appeal to Heaven for the 
justice of Our cause ; and may confidently trust the final result to 
that kind Providence who has heretofore and so often signally 
favoured the people of these United States. 



APPOINTED COMMANDER-IN-CHIEF. 565 

« Thinking in this manner, and feeling how incumbent it is upon 
every person of every description, to contribute at all times to his 
country's welfare, and especially in a moment like the present, 
when every thing we hold dear and sacred is so seriously threatened ; 
I have finally determined to accept the commission of commander- 
in-chief of the armies of the United States ; with the reserve only 
that I shall not be called into the field until the army is in a situa- 
tion to require my presence, or it becomes indispensable by the 
urgency of circumstances. 

<<In making this reservation, I beg it to be understood, that I do 
not mean to withhold any assistance to arrange and organize the 
army, which you may think I can afford. I take the liberty also to 
mention that I must decline having my acceptance considered as 
drawing after it any immediate charge upon the public ; or that I 
can receive any emoluments annexed to the appointment, before 
entering into a situation to incur expense." 

The time of Washington, after the receipt of this appointment, 
was divided between agricultural pursuits and the cares and atten- 
tions which were imposed by his new office. The organization of 
the army was, in a great measure, left to him. Much of his time 
w^as employed in making a proper selection of officers and arrang- 
ing the whole army in the best possible manner to meet the invaders 
at the water's edge ; for he contemplated a system of continued 
attack, and frequently observed, "that the enemy must never be 
permitted to gain foothold on the shores of the United States." 
Yet he always thought that an actual invasion of the country was 
very improbable. He believed that the hostile measures of France 
took their rise from an expectation that these measures would pro- 
duce a revolution of power in the United States, favourable to the 
views of the French republic ; and that when the spirit of the 
Americans was roused, the French would give up the contest. 
Events soon proved that these opinions were well founded ; for no 
sooner had the United States armed, than they were treated with 
respect, and an indirect communication was made that France 
would accommodate all matters in dispute on reasonable terms. 
Mr. Adams embraced these overtures, and made a second appoint- 
ment of three envoys extraordinary to the French republic. These, 
r>n repairing to France, found the Directory overthrown and the 
government in the hands of Bonaparte, who had taken no part in 
the disputes which had brought the two countries to the verge of 
war. With him negotiations were commenced and soon terminated 
in a pacific settlement of all differences. The joy to which this 

3B 



566 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

event gave birth was great ; but in it General Washington did not 
partake, for before accounts arrived of this amicable adjustment, he 
had ceased to be numbered with the living. 

On the 13th of December, 1799, his neck and hair were 
sprinkled with a light rain while he was out of doors attending to 
some improvements on his estate. In the following night he was 
seized with an inflammatory affection of the windpipe, attended 
with pain and a difficult deglutition, which was soon succeeded by 
fever and a laborious respiration. He was bled in the night, but 
would not permit his family physician to be sent for before day. 
About 11 o'clock, A. M., Dr. Craik arrived, and rightly judging 
that the case was serious, recommended that two consulting phy- 
sicians should be sent for. The united powers of all three were 
exerted in vain ; in about twenty-four hours from the time he 
was in his usual health, he expired without a struggle, and in the 
perfect use of his reason. 

In every stage of his disorder he believed that he should die, 
and he was so much under this impression, that he submitted to the 
prescriptions of his physicians more from a sense of duty than 
from any expectation of relief. After he had given them a trial, he 
expressed a wish that he might be permitted to die without further 
interruption. Towards the close of his illness, he undressed him- 
self and went to bed, to die there. To his friend and physician, Dr. 
Craik, he said, <' I am dying, and have been dying for a long time, 
but I am not afraid to die." The equanimity which attended him 
through life, did not forsake him in death. He was the same in that 
moment as in all the past, magnanimous and firm ; confiding in the 
mercy and resigned to the will of Heaven. He submitted to the 
mevitable stroke with the dignity of a man, the calmness of a philo- 
sopher, the resignation and confidence of a Christian. 

On the 18th, his body, attended by military honours, and the 
offices of religion, was deposited in the family vault on his estate. 

In December, 1837, the remains of this great father of our na- 
tion, after a slumber of thirty-eight years, were again exposed by 
the circumstance of placing his body once, and for ever, within 
the sarcophagus of marble, made by Mr. Struthers, of Philadelphia. 
The body, as Mr. Struthers related, was still in wonderful preserva- 
tion ; the high pale brow wore a calm and serene expression, and 
the lips, pressed together, had a grave and solemn smile. 

When intelligence reached Congress of the death of Washington, 
they instantly adjourned until the next day, when John Marshall, 
then a member of the House of Representatives, and since Chief 



HIS DEATH. 



567 




THE OLD TOMB OF "WASHINGTON. 



Justice of the United States and biographer of Washington, ad- 
dressed the speaker in the following words : 

" The melancholy event which was yesterday announced with 
doubt, has been rendered but too certain. Our Washington is no 
more. The hero, the patriot, and the sage of America ; the man 
on whom in times of danger every eye was turned and all hopes 
were placed, lives now only in his own great actions, and in the 
hearts of an affectionate and afflicted people. 

"If, sir, it had even not been usual openly to testify respect for 
the memory of those whom Heaven has selected as its instruments 
for dispensing good to man, yet such has been the uncommon 
worth, and such the extraordinary incidents which have marked 
the life of him whose loss we all deplore, that the whole American 
nation, impelled by the same feelings, would call with one voice 
for a public manifestation of that sorrow, which is so deep and so 
universal. 

"More than any other individual, and as much as to any one 
individual was possible, has he contributed to found this our wide 
spreading empire, and to give to the western world independence 
and freedom. 

"Having effected the great object for which he was placed at 
the head of our armies, we have seen him convert the sword into 
the ploughshare, and sink the soldier into the citizen. 

" When the debility of our federal system had become manifest, 
and the bonds which connected this vast continent were dissolving, 



568 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

we have seen him the chief of those patriots who formed for us a 
Constitution, which, by preserving the Union, will, I trust, substan- 
tiate and perpetuate those blessings which our Revolution had pro- 
mised to bestow. 

"In obedience to the general voice of his country, calling him 
to preside over a great people, we have seen him once more quit 
the retirement he loved, and in a season more stormy and tempest- 
uous than war itself, with calm and wise determination, pursue the 
true interests of the nation, and contribute more than any other could 
contribute to the establishment of that system of policy which will, 
I trust, yet preserve our peace, our honour, and our independence. 
Having been twice unanimously chosen the chief magistrate of a 
free people, we have seen him, at a time when his re-election with 
universal suffrage could not be doubted, afford to the world a rare 
instance of moderation, by withdrawing from his high station to 
the peaceful walks of private life. However the public confidence 
may change and the public affections fluctuate with respect to 
others, with respect to him they have, in war and in peace, in 
public and in private life, been as steady as his own firm mind, and 
as constant as his own exalted virtues. Let us then, Mr. Speaker, 
pay the last tribute of respect and affection to our departed friend. 
Let the grand council of the nation display those sentiments which 
the nation feels. For this purpose, I hold in my hand some reso- 
lutions which I take the liberty of offering to the House, 

"Resolved, That this House will wait on the President in con- 
dolence of this mournful event. 

"Resolved, That the Speaker's chair be shrouded with black, 
and that the members and officers of the House wear black during 
the session. 

<< Resolved, that a committee, in conjunction with one from the 
Senate, be appointed to consider on the most suitable manner of 
paying honour to the memory of the man, first in war, first in peace, 
and first in the hearts of his fellow-citizens." 

The Senate, on this melancholy occasion, addressed to the Presi- 
dent the following letter : 

" The Senate of the United States respectfully take leave, sir, to 
express to you their deep regret for the loss their country sustains 
in the death of General George Washington. 

"This event, so distressing to all our fellow-citizens, must be 
peculiarly heavy to you, who have long been associated with him 
in deeds of patriotism. Permit us, sir, to mingle our tears with 
yours. On this occasion, it is manly to weep. To lose such a man 



FUNEREAL HONOURS. 569 

at such a crisis, is no common calamity to the world. Oar country 
mourns a father. The Almighty Disposer of human events has 
taken from us our greatest benefactor and ornament. It becomes 
us to submit with reverence to him 'who maketh darkness his 
pavilion.' 

"With patriotic pride we review the life of our Washington, and 
compare its events with those of other countries, who have been pre- 
eminent in fame. Ancient and modern times are diminished before 
him. Greatness and guilt have too often been allied ; but his fame 
is whiter than it is brilliant. The destroyers of nations stood 
abashed at the majesty of his virtues. It reproved the intemperance 
of their ambition, and darkened the splendour of victory. The 
scene is closed, and we are no longer anxious lest misfortune 
should sully his glory; he has travelled on to the end of his journey, 
and carried with him an increasing weight of honour ; he has de- 
posited it safely where misfortune cannot tarnish it, where malice 
cannot blast it. Favoured of Heaven, he departed without exhibit- 
ing the weakness of humanity. Magnanimous in death, the dark' 
ness of the grave could not obscure his brightness. 

" Such was the man whom we deplore. Thanks to God, his 
glory is consummated. Washington yet lives on earth in his spot- 
less example ; his spirit is in Heaven. 

" Let his countrymen consecrate the memory of the heroic gene- 
ral, the patriotic statesman, and the virtuous sage. Let them teach 
their children never to forget, that the fruits of his labours and his 
example are their inheritance." 

To this address, the President returned the following answer : — 

" I receive with the most respectful and affectionate sentiments, 
in this impressive address, the obliging expressions of your regret 
for the loss our country has sustained in the death of her most 
esteemed, beloved, and admired citizen. 

"In the multitude of my thoughts and recollections on this me- 
lancholy event, you will permit me to say, that I have seen him in 
the days of adversity, in some of the scenes of his deepest distress, 
and most trying perplexities. I have also attended him in the 
highest elevation, and most prosperous felicity, with uniform admi- 
ration of his wisdom, moderation, and constancy. 

"Among all our original associates in that memorable league of 
this continent in 1774, which first expressed the sovereign will of 
a free nation in America, he was the only one remaining in the 
general government. Although with a constitution more enfeebled 
than his, at an age when he thought it necessary to prepare for 
72 3 B 3 



570 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

retirement, I feel myself alone bereaved of my last brother, yet I 
derive a strong consolation from the unanimous disposition which 
appears in all ages and classes, to mingle their sorrows with mine, 
on this common calamity to the world. 

" The life of our Washington cannot suffer by a comparison with 
those of other countries, who have been most celebrated and exalted 
by fame. The attributes and decorations of royalty could only 
have served to eclipse the majesty of those virtues which made 
him, from being a modest citizen, a more resplendent luminary. 
Misfortune, had he lived, could hereafter have sullied his glory only 
with those superficial minds, who, believing that character and 
actions are marked by success alone, rarely deserve to enjoy it. 
Malice could never blast his honour, and envy made him a singular 
exception to her universal rule. For himself, he had lived long 
enough to life and to glory ; for his fellow-citizens, if their prayers 
could have been answered, he would have been immortal ; for me, 
his departure is at a most unfortunate moment. Trusting, how- 
ever, in the wise and righteous dominion of Providence over the 
passions of men and the results of their actions, as well as over 
their lives, nothing remains for me but humble resignation. 

'< His example is now complete ; and it will teach wisdom and 
virtue to magistrates, citizens, and men, not only in the present 
age, but in future generations, as long as our history shall be read. 
If a Trajan found a Pliny, a Marcus Aurelius can never want bio- 
graphers, eulogists, or historians." 

The committee of both Houses appointed to devise the mode by 
which the nation should express its grief, reported the following 
resolutions, which were unanimously adopted. 

" Resolved, by the Senate and House of Representatives of the 
United States of America, in Congress assembled, That a marble 
monument be erected by the United States at the capitol of the 
city of Washington, and that the family of General Washington be 
requested to permit his body to be deposited under it, and that the 
monument be so designed as to commemorate the great events of his 
military and political life. 

" And be it further resolved, that there be a funeral from Con- 
gress Hall to the German Lutheran church, in memory of General 
George Washington, on Thursday the 26th instant ; and that an 
oration be prepared at the request of Congress, to be delivered 
before both houses that day ; and that the President of the Senate 
and Speaker of the House of Representatives, be desired to request 
one of the members of Congress to prepare and deliver the same. 



FUNEREAL HONOURS. 571 

"And be it further resolved, that the President of the United 
States be requested to direct a copy of these resolutions to be trans- 
mitted to Mrs. Washington, assuring her of the profound respect 
Congress will ever bear for her person and character, of their con- 
dolence on the late afflicting dispensation of Providence : and 
entreating her assent to the interment of the remains of General 
Washington in the manner expressed in the first resolution. 

" And be it further resolved, that the President of the United 
States be requested to issue his proclamation, notifying to the peo- 
ple throughout the United States, the recommendation contained in 
the third resolution." 

To the letter of President Adams, which transmitted to Mrs. 
Washington the resolution of Congress that she should be requested 
to permit the remains of General Washington to be deposited under 
a marble monument, to be erected in the city of Washington, she 
replied very much in the style and manner of her departed husband, 
and in the following words : " Taught by the great example which I 
have so long had before me, never to oppose my private wishes to 
the public will, I must consent to the request made by Congress, 
which you have had the goodness to transmit to me ; and in doing 
this, I need not, I cannot say, what a sacrifice of individual feeling 
I make to a sense of public duty." 

.HE honours paid to Washington at the seat of 
government, were but a small part of the whole. 
Throughout the United States, the citizens gene- 
rally expressed, in a variety of ways, both their 
grief and their gratitude. Their heartfelt distress 
resembled the agony of a large and affectionate 
family, when a bereaved widow and orphan chil- 
dren mingle their tears for the loss of a husband and father. 

We cannot better conclude this volume than by extracting from 
the works of Fisher Ames the sketch of the character of Washing- 
ton, contained in the eulogium upon him pronounced by that 
statesman before the legislature of Massachusetts. It is less im- 
passioned than many similar passages which we might select, much 
less so than the w^ell-known character of Mr. Ames as a most 
brilliant orator would lead us to expect. At the time it was de- 
livered, however, the numerous funereal honours already paid to the 
memory of the beloved dead, had already made a great demand 
upon the public sensibility. Mr. Ames chose rather to dwell on the 
political events and acts which illustrated his character than to draw 
tears for his loss. 




572 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

"It is not impossible," he said, "that some will affect to con- 
sider the honours paid to this great patriot by the nation, as exces- 
sive, idolatrous, and degrading to freemen who are all equal. I 
answer, that refusing to virtue its legitimate honours would not pre- 
vent their being lavished in future, on any worthless and ambitious 
favourite. If this day's example should have its natural effect, it 
will be salutary. Let such honours be so conferred only when, in 
future, they shall be so merited ; then the pubHc sentiment will not 
be misled, nor the principles of a just equality corrupted. The 
best evidence of reputation is a man's whole life. We. have now, 
alas, all of Washington's before us. There has scarcely appeared a 
really great man whose character has been more admired in his 
lifetime, or less correctly understood by his admirers. When it is 
comprehended, it is no easy task to delineate its excellences in such 
a manner as to give the portrait both interest and resemblance ; for 
it requires thought and study to understand the true ground of the 
superiority of his character over many others, whom he resemWed 
in the principles of action and even in the manner of acting./ But 
perhaps he excels all the great men that ever lived in the steadiness 
of his adherence to his maxims of life, and in the uniformity of 
all his conduct to those maxims. Those maxims, though wise, 
were yet not so remarkable for their wisdom as for their authority 
over his life, for if there were any errors in his judgment, and he 
displayed as few as any man, we know of no blemishes in his 
virtue. He was the patriot without reproach : he loved his country 
well enough to hold his success in serving it an ample recompense. 
Thus far, self-love and love of country coincided : but when his 
country needed sacrifices that no other man could, or perhaps would 
be willing to make, he did not even hesitate. This was virtue in 
its most exalted character. More than once he put his fame at 
hazard, when he had reason to think it would be sacrificed, at least 
in this age. Two instances cannot be denied : when the army was 
disbanded, and again when he stood, like Leonidas at the pass of 
Therraopylse, to defend our independence against France. 

"It is indeed almost as difficult to draw his character as to draw 
the portrait of virtue. The reasons are similar; our ideas of moral 
excellence are obscure, because they are complex, and we are obliged 
to resort to illustrations, Washington's example is the happiest, 
to show what virtue is; and to delineate his character, we naturally 
expatiate on the beauty of virtue ; much must be felt and much 
imagined. His pre-eminence is not so much to be seen in the 
display of any one virtue, as in the possession of them all, and in 



CHARACTER, BY FISHER AMES. 573 

the practice of the most difficult. Hereafter, therefore, his character 
must be studied before it will be striking, and then it will be ad- 
mitted as a model, a precious one to a free republic. 

«It is no less difficult to speak of his talents. They were adapted 
to lead, without dazzling mankind ; and to draw forth and employ 
the talents of others without being misled by them. In this he 
was certainly superior, that he neither mistook nor misapplied his 
own. His great modesty and reserve would have concealed them 
if great occasions had not called them forth ; and then, as he never 
spoke from the affectation to shine, nor acted from any sinister 
motives, it is from their effects only that we are to judge of their 
greatness and extent. In public trusts, where men, acting con- 
spicuously, are cautious, and in those private concerns, where few 
conceal or resist their weakness, Washington was uniformly great, 
pursuing right conduct from right maxims. His talents were such 
as to assist a sound judgment and ripen with it. His prudence 
was consummate, and seemed to take the direction of his powers 
and passions ; for, as a soldier, he was more solicitous to avoid 
mistakes that might be fatal than to perform exploits that are bril- 
liant ; and as a statesman to adhere to just principles, however old, 
than to pursue novelties ; and therefore, in both characters, his 
qualities were singularly adapted to the interest and were tried in 
the greatest perils of the country. His habits of inquiry were so 
far remarkable, that he was never satisfied with investigating, nor 
desisted from it, so long as he had less than all the light that he 
could obtain upon a subject, and then he made his decision without 
bias. 

" This command over the partialities that so generally stop men 
short, or turn them aside in their pursuit of truth, is one of the 
chief causes of his unvaried course of right conduct in so many 
difficult scenes, where every human action must be presumed to 
err. If he had strong passions, he had learned to subdue them, 
and to be moderate and mild. If he had weaknesses, he concealed 
them, which is rare, and excluded them from the government of his 
temper and conduct, which is still more rare. If he loved fame, he 
never made improper compHances for what is called popularity. 
The fame he enjoyed is of the kind that will last for ever ; yet it 
was rather the effect, than the motive of his conduct. Some future 
Plutarch will search for a parallel to his character. Epaminondas 
is perhaps the brightest name of all antiquity. Our Washington 
resembled him in the purity and ardour of his patriotism ; and like 
him, he first exalted the glory of his country. There, it is to be 



574 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

hoped, the parallel ends, for Thebes fell with Epaminondas. But 
such comparisons cannot be pursued far, without departing from 
the similitude. For we shall find it as difficult to compare great 
men as great rivers ; some we admire for the length and rapidity 
of their currents, and the grandeur of their cataracts ; others for the 
majestic silence and fulness of their streams; we cannot bring them 
together to measure the difference of their waters. The unambi- 
tious life of Washington, declining fame, yet courted by it, seemed, 
like the Ohio, to choose its long way through solitudes, diffusing 
fertility ; or like his own Potomac, widening and deepening his 
channel, as he approaches the sea, and displaying most the use- 
fulness and serenity of his greatness towards the end of his course. 
Such a citizen would do honour to any country. The constant 
veneration and affection of his country will show that it was worthy 
of such a citizen. 

" However his military fame may excite the wonder of mankind, 
it is chiefly by his civil magistracy that his example will instruct 
them. Great generals have arisen in all ages of the world, and 
perhaps most of them in despotism and darkness. In times of vio- 
lence and convulsion they rise, by the force- of the whirlwind, 
high enough to ride in it, and direct the storm. Like meteors, 
they glare on the black clouds with a splendour, that, while it 
dazzles and terrifies, makes nothing visible but the darkness. The 
fame of heroes is indeed growing vulgar : they multiply in every 
long war ; they stand in history and thicken in their ranks almost 
as undistinguished as their own soldiers. 

" But such a chief magistrate as Washington appears like the pole 
star in a clear sky, to direct the skilful statesman. His presidency 
will form an epoch and be distinguished as the age of Washington. 
Already it assumes its high place in the polilical region. Like 
the milky-way, it whitens along its allotted portion of the hemi- 
sphere. The latest generations of men will survey, through the 
telescope of history, the space where so many virtues blend their 
rays, and delight to separate them into groups and distinct virtues. 
As the best illustration of them, the living monument, to which the 
first of patriots would have chosen to consign his fame, it is my 
earnest prayer to Heaven that our country may subsist even to that 
late day in the plenitude of its liberty and happiness, and mingle 
its mild glory with Washington's." 



APPENDIX. 



WASHINGTON'S FAREWELL ADDRESS TO THE PEOPLE OF 
THE UNITED STATES. 

Friends and fellow-citizens, 

The period for a new election of a citizen to administer the execu- 
tive government of the United States being not far distant, and the 
time actually arrived when your thoughts must be employed in desig- 
nating the person who is to be clothed with that important trust, it ap- 
pears to me proper, especially as it may conduce to a more distinct 
expression of the public voice, that I should now apprize you of the 
resolution I have formed, to decline being considered among the num- 
ber of those, out of whom a choice is to be made. 

I beg you, at the same time, to do me the justice to be assured, 
that this resolution has not been taken, without a strict regard to all the 
considerations appertaining to the relation Avhich binds a dutiful citi- 
zen to his country ; and that in withdrawing the tender of service 
which silence in my situation might imply, I am influenced by no 
diminution of zeal for your future interest ; no deficiency of grateful 
respect for your past kindness ; but I am supported by a full conviction 
that the step is compatible with both. 

The acceptance of, and continuance hitherto in the office to which 
your suffrages have twice called me, have been a uniform sacrifice of 
inclination to the opinion of duty, and to a deference for what appeared 
to be your desire. I constantly hoped that it would have been much 
earlier in my power, consistently with motives which I was not at 
liberty to disregard, to return to that retirement from which I had been 
reluctantly drawn. The strength of my inclination to do this, previous 
to the last election, had even led to the preparation of an address to 
declare it to you ; but mature reflection on the then perplexed and criti- 
cal posture of our affairs with foreign nations, and the unanimous 
advice of persons entitled to my confidence, impelled me to abandon 
the idea. 

575 



576 APPENDIX. 

I rejoice that the state of your concerns, external as well as inter- 
nal, no longer renders the pursuit of inclination incompatible with the 
sentiment of duty or propriety ; and am persuaded, whatever partiality 
may be retained for my services, that in the present circumstances of 
our country, you will not disapprove my detennination to retire. 

The impressions with which I first undertook the arduous trust, 
were explained on the proper occasion. In the discharge of this trust, 
I will only say that I have, with good intentions, contributed towards 
the organization and administration of the government, the best exer- 
tions of which a very fallible judgment was capable. Not unconscious, 
in the outset, of the inferiority of my qualifications, experience, in my 
own eyes, perhaps still more in the eyes of others, has strengthened 
the motives to diffidence of myself; and, every day, the increasing 
weight of years admonishes me more and more, that the shade of re- 
tirement is as necessary to me as it will be welcome. Satisfied that 
if any circumstances have given peculiar value to my services, they 
were temporary, I have the consolation to believe that, while choice 
and prudence invite me to quit the pohtical scene, patriotism does not 
forbid it. , 

In looking forward to the moment which is to terminate the career 
of my political life, my feelings do not permit me to suspend the deep 
acknowledgment of that debt of gratitude which I owe to my beloved 
country, for the many honours it has conferred upon me ; still more for 
the steadfast confidence with which it has supported me ; and for the 
opportunities I have thence enjoyed of manifesting my inviolable at- 
tachment, by services faithful and persevering, though in usefulness 
unequal to my zeal. If benefits have resulted to our country from 
these services, let it always be remembered to your praise, as an in- 
structive example in our annals, that under circumstances in which the 
passions, agitated in every direction, were liable to mislead amidst ap- 
pearances sometimes dubious, vicissitudes of fortune often discourag- 
ing — in situations in which, not unfrequently, want of success has 
countenanced the spirit of criticism — the constancy of your support 
was the essential prop of the efforts, and a guarantee of the plans by 
which they were efl"ected. Profoundly penetrated with this idea, I shall 
carry it with me to my grave, as a strong incitement to unceasing vows, 
that heaven may continue to you the choicest tokens of its beneficence 
— that your union and brotherly affection may be perpetual — that the 
free constitution, which is the work of your hands, may be sacredly 
maintained — that its administration in every department may be 
stamped with wisdom and virtue — that, in fine, the happiness of the 
people of these states, under the auspices of liberty, may be made 



WASHINGTON'S FAREWELL ADDRESS. 577 

complete by so careful a preservation, and so prudent a use of this 
blessing as will acquire to them the glory of recommending it to the 
applause, the affection, and adoption of every nation which is yet a 
stranger to it. 

Here, perhaps, I ought to stop. But a solicitude for your welfare, 
which cannot end but with my life, and the apprehension of danger, 
natural to that solicitude, urge me, on an occasion hke the present, to 
offer to your solenm contemplation, and to recommend to your frequent 
review, some sentiments which are the result of much reflection, of no 
inconsiderable observation, and which appear to me all-important to 
the permanency of your felicity as a people. These will be offered to 
you with the more freedom, as you can only see in them the disinte- 
rested warnings of a parting friend, who can possibly have no personal 
motive to bias his counsel. Nor can I forget, as an encouragement to 
it, your indulgent reception of my sentiments on a former and not dis- 
similar occasion. 

Interwoven as is the love of liberty with every ligament of your 
hearts, no recommendation of mine is necessary to fortify or confirm 
the attachment. 

The unity of government which constitutes you one people, is also 
now dear to you. It is justly so ; for it is a main pillar in the edifice 
of your real independence ; the support of your tranquilhty at home ; 
your peace abroad ; of your safety ; of your prosperity ; of that very 
liberty which you so highly prize. But, as it is easy to foresee, that 
from different causes, and from different quarters, much pains will be 
taken, many artifices employed, to weaken in your minds the convic- 
tion of this truth ; as this is the point in your political fortress against 
which the batteries of internal and external enemies will be most con- 
stantly and actively (though often covertly and insidiously) directed ; 
it is of infinite moment, that you should properly estimate the im- 
mense value of your national union to your collective and individual 
happiness ; that you should cherish a cordial, habitual, and immove- 
able attachment to it ; accustoming yourselves to think and speak of it 
as of the palladium of your political safety and prosperity ; watching 
for its preservation with jealous anxiety ; discountenancing whatever 
may suggest even a suspicion that it can, in any event, be abandoned ; 
and indignantly frowning upon the first dawning of every attempt to 
alienate any portion of our country from the rest, or to enfeeble the 
sacred ties which now link together the various parts. 

For this you have every inducement of sympathy and interest. Citi- 
zens by birth, or choice, of a common country, that country has a right 
to concentrate your affections. The name of American, which belongs 
73 3C 



578 APPENDIX. 

to you in your national capacity, must always exalt the just pride of 
patriotism, more than any appellation derived from local discrimina- 
tions. With slight shades of difference, you have the same religion, 
manners, habits, and political principles. You have, in a common 
cause, fought and triumphed together ; the independence and liberty 
you possess, are the work of joint counsels, and joint efforts, of com- 
mon dangers, sufferings and successes. 

But these considerations, however powerfully they address them- 
selves to your sensibility, are greatly outweighed by those which apply 
more immediately to your interest. Here, every portion of our coun- 
try finds the most commanding motives for carefully guarding and 
preserving the union of the whole. 

The north, in an unrestrained intercourse with the south, protected 
by the equal laws of a common government, finds in the productions of 
the latter, great additional resources of maritime and commercial enter- 
prise, and precious materials of manufacturing industry. The south, 
in the same intercouse, benefiting by the same agency of the north, 
sees its agriculture grow, and its commerce expand. Turning partly . 
into its own channels the seamen of the north, it finds its particular 
navigation invigorated ; and while it contributes, in different ways, to 
nourish and increase the general mass of the national navigation, it 
looks forward to the protection of a maritime strength, to Avhich itself 
is unequally adapted. The east, in a like intercourse with the west, 
already finds, and in the progressive improvement of interior commu- 
nications by land and water will more and more find a valuable vent 
for the commodities which it brings from abroad, or manufactures at 
home. The west derives from the east supplies requisite to its growth 
and comfort — and what is perhaps of still greater consequence, it must 
of necessity owe the secure enjoyment of indispensable outlets for its 
own productions, to the weight, influence, and the future maritime 
strength of the Atlantic side of the Union, directed by an indissoluble 
community of interest as one nation. Any other tenure by which the 
west can hold this essential advantage, whether derived from its own 
separate strength, or from an apostate and unnatural connection with 
any foreign power, must be intrinsically precarious. 

While then every part of our country thus feels an immediate 
and particular interest in union, all the parts combined cannot fail to 
find in the united mass of means and efforts, greater strength, greater 
resource, proportionably greater security from external danger, a less 
frequent interruption of their peace by foreign nations ; and, what is 
of inestimable value, they must derive from union an exemption from 
those broils and wars between themselves, which so frequently afflict 



WASHINGTON'S FAREWELL ADDRESS. 579 

neighbouring countries not tied together by the same government ; 
which their own rivalships alone would be sufficient to produce, but 
which, opposite foreign alliances, attachments and intrigues, would 
stimulate and imbitter. Hence likewise, they will avoid the necessity 
of those overgrown military establishments, which under any form of 
government are inauspicious to liberty, and which are to be regarded 
as particularly hostile to repubhcan liberty. In this sense it is, that 
your union ought to be considered as a main prop of your liberty, and 
that the love of the one ought to endear to you the preservation of the 
other. 

These considerations speak a persuasive language to every reflect- 
ing and virtuous mind, and exhibit the continuance of the Union as a 
primary object of patriotic desire. Is there a doubt whether a common 
government can embrace so large a sphere ? Let experience solve it. 
To listen to mere speculation in such a case were criminal. We are 
authorized to hope that a proper organization of the whole, with the 
auxiliary agency of governments for the respective subdivisions, Avill 
afford a happy issue to the experiment. It is well worth a fair and 
full experiment. With such powerful and obvious motives to union, 
affecting all parts of our country, while experience shall not have de- 
monstrated its impracticability, there will always be reasons to distrust 
the patriotism of those, who, in any quarter, may endeavour to weaken 
its bands. 

In contemplating the causes which may disturb our union, it occurs, 
as matter of serious concern, that any ground should have been fur^ 
nished for characterizing parties by geographical discriminations, — 
northern and southern — Atlantic and western; whence designing 
men may endeavour to excite a belief that there is a real difference of 
local interests and views. One of the expedients of party to acquire 
influence within particular districts, is to misrepresent the opinions and 
aims of other districts. You cannot shield yourselves too much against 
the jealousies and heart-burnings which spring from these misrepresent- 
ations : they tend to render alien to each other those who ought to be 
bound together by fraternal affection. The inhabitants of our west* 
em country have lately had a useful lesson on this head : they have 
seen, in the negotiation by the executive, and in the unanimous ratifi- 
cation by the Senate of the treaty with Spain, and in the universal sat- 
isfaction at the event throughout the United States, a decisive proof 
how unfounded were the suspicions propagated among them of a policy 
in the general government and in the Atlantic States, unfriendly to 
their interests in regard to the Mississippi. They have been witnesses 
to the formation of two treaties, that with Great Britain and that with 



580 APPENDIX. 

Spain, which secure to them every thing they could desire, in respect 
to our foreign relations, towards confirming their prosperity. Will it 
not be their wisdom to rely for the preservation of these advantages on 
the union by which they were procured ? will they not henceforth be 
deaf to those advisers, if such there are, who would sever them from 
their brethren, and connect them with aliens ? 

To the efficacy and permanency of your union, a government for 
the whole is indispensable. No alhances, however strict, between the 
parts can be an adequate substitute ; they must inevitably experience 
the infractions and interruptions which all alliances, in all times, have 
experienced. Sensible of this momentous truth, you have improved 
j-our first essay, by the adoption of a Constitution of government bet- 
ter calculated than your former for an intimate union, and for the effi- 
cacious management of your common concerns. This government, the 
offspring of our own choice, uninfluenced and unawed, adopted upon 
full investigation and mature deliberation, completely free in its prin- 
ciples, in the distribution of its powers uniting security with energy, 
and containing within itself a provision for its own amendment, has a 
just claim to your confidence and your support. Respect for its au- 
thority, compliance with its laws, acquiescence in its measures, are du- 
ties enjoined by the fundamental maxims of true liberty. The basis 
of our political systems is the right of the people to make and to alter 
their constitutions of government. But the constitution which at any 
time exists, until changed by an explicit and authentic act of the whole 
people, is sacredly obligatory upon all. The very idea of the power 
and the right of the people to establish government, presupposes the 
duty of every individual to obey the established government. 

All obstructions to the execution of the laws, all combinations and 
associations under whatever plausible character, with the real design 
to direct, control, counteract, or awe the regular deliberations and action 
of the constituted authorities, are destructive of this fundamental 
principle, and of fatal tendency. They serve to organize faction, to 
give it an artificial and extraordinary force, to put in the place of the 
delegated will of the nation the will of party, often a small but artful 
and enterprising minority of the community ; and, according to the 
alternate triumphs of different parties, to make the public administra^ 
tion the mirror of the ill-concerted and incongruous projects of faction, 
rather than the organ of consistent and wholesome plans digested by 
common councils, and modified by mutual interests. 

However combinations or associations of the above description may 
now and then answer popular ends, they are likely, in the course of 
time and things, to become potent engines, by which cunning, ambi-» 



WASHINGTON'S F'AREWELL ADDRESS. 581 

tious, and unprincipled men, will be enabled to subvert the power of the 
people, and to usurp for themselves the reins of government ; destroying 
afterwards the very engines which have lifted them to unjust dominion. 

Towards the preservation of your government and the permanency 
of your present happy state, it is requisite, not only that you steadily 
discountenance irregular oppositions to its acknowledged authority, but 
also that you resist with care the spirit of innovation upon its principles, 
however specious the pretext. One method of assault may be to effect, 
in the forms of the Constitution, alterations which will impair the energy 
of the system; and thus to undermine what cannot be directly over- 
thrown. In all the changes to which you may be invited, remember 
that time and habit are at least as necessary to fix the true character 
of governments as of other human institutions : — that experience is the 
surest standard by which to test the real tendency of the existing con- 
stitution of a country : — that facility in changes, upon the credit of 
mere hypothesis and opinion, exposes to perpetual change from the 
endless variety of hypothesis and opinion ; and remember, especially, 
that for the efficient management of your common interests, in a country 
so extensive as ours, a government of as much vigour as is consistent 
with the perfect security of liberty is indispensable. Liberty itself 
will find in such a government, with powers properly distributed and 
adjusted, its surest guardian. It is, indeed, little else than a name, 
where the government is too feeble to withstand the enterprises of fac- 
tion, to confine each member of the society within the hmits prescribed 
by the laAvs, and to maintain all in the secure and tranquil enjoyment 
of the rights of person and property. 

I have already intimated to you the danger of parties in the state, 
with particular references to the founding them on geographical discri- 
minations. Let me now take a more comprehensive view, and warn 
you in the most solemn manner against the baneful effects of the spirit 
of party generally. 

This spirit, unfortunately, is inseparable from our nature, having its 
root in the strongest passions of the human mind. It exists under dif- 
ferent shapes in all governments, more or less stifled, controlled, or re- 
pressed ; but in those of the popular form, it is seen in its greatest rank- 
ness, and is truly their worst enemy. 

The alternate domination of one faction over another, sharpened In- 
the spirit of revenge natural to party dissension, which, in different 
ages and countries, has perpetrated the most horrid enormities, is itself 
a frightful despotism. But this leads at length to a more formal and 
permanent despotism. The disorders and miseries which result, gra- 
dually incHne the minds of men to seek security and repose in the al> 

3c2 



582 APPENDIX. 

solute power of an individual ; and, sooner or later, the chief of some 
prevailing faction, more able or more fortunate than his competitors, 
turns this disposition to the purposes of his own elevation on the ruins 
of public hberty. 

Without looking- forward to an extremity of this kind, (which never- 
theless ought not to be entirely out of sight,) the common and con- 
tinual mischiefs of the spirit of party are sufficient to make it the in- 
terest and duty of a wise people to discourage and restrain it. 

It serves alwaj^s to distract the pubhc councils, and enfeeble the 
pubHc administration. It agitates the community with ill-founded 
jealousies and false alarms ; kindles the animosity of one part against 
another ; foments occasional riot and insurrection. It opens the door 
to foreign influence and corruption, which finds a facilitated access to 
the government itself through the channels of party passions. Thus 
the policy and the will of one country are subjected to the poHcy and 
will of another. 

There is an opinion that parties in free countries are useful checks 
upon the administration of the government, and serve to keep alive the 
spirit of liberty. This, within certain hmits, is probably true ; and, in 
governments of a monarchical cast, patriotism may look with indul- 
gence, if not with favour, upon the spirit of party. But in those of the 
popular character, in governments purely elective, it is a spirit not to 
be encouraged. From their natural tendency, it is certain there will 
always be enough of that spirit for every salutary purpose. And there 
being constant danger of excess, th^ effort ought to be, by force of 
public opinion, to mitigate and assuage it. A fire not to be quenched, 
it demands a uniform vigilance to prevent it bursting into a flame, lest, 
instead of warming, it should consume. 

It is important, likewise, that the habits of thinking in a free country 
should inspire caution in these intrusted with its administration, to 
confine themselves within their respective constitutional spheres, avoid- 
ing in the exercise of the powers of one department, to encroach upon an- 
other. The spirit of encroachment tends to consohdate the powers of 
all the departments in one, and thus to create, whatever the form of 
government, a real despotism. A just estimate of that love of power 
and proneness to abuse it which predominate in the human heart, is 
sufficient to satisfy us of the truth of this position. The necessity of 
reciprocal checks in the exercise of political power, by dividing and 
distributing it into different depositories, and constituting each the 
guardian of the public weal against invasions of the others, has been 
evinced by experiments ancient and modern : some of them in our 
country, and under our own eyes. To preserve them must be as 



WASHINGTON'S FAREWELL ADDRESS. 583 

necessary as to institute them. If, in the opinion of the people, the 
distribution or modification of the constitutional powers be in any par- 
ticular wrong, let it be corrected by an amendment in the way which 
the Constitution designates. But let there be no change by usurpa- 
tion ; for though this, in one instance, may be the instrument of good, 
it is the customary weapon by which free governments are destroyed. 
The precedent must always greatly overbalance in permanent evil, 
any partial or transient benefit which the use can at any time yield. 

Of all the dispositions and habits which lead to pohtical prosperity, 
religion and morality are indispensable supports. In vain would that 
man claim the tribute of patriotism, who should labour to subvert these 
great pillars of human happiness, these firmest props of the duties of 
men and citizens. The mere politician, equally with the pious man, 
ought to respect and to cherish them. A volume could not trace all 
their connections with private and public felicity. Let it simply be 
asked, where is the security for property, for reputation, for life, if 
the sense of religious obligation desert the oaths which are the instru- 
ments of investigation in courts of justice ? And let us with caution 
indulge the supposition that morality can be maintained without re- 
ligion. Whatever may be conceded to the influence of refined edu- 
cation on minds of peculiar structure, reason and experience both 
forbid us to expect that national morality can prevail in exclusion of 
religious principle. 

It is substantially true, that virtue or morahty is a necessary spring 
of popular government. The rule, indeed, extends with more or less 
force to every species of free government. Who that is a sincere 
friend to it can look with indifference upon attempts to shake the 
foundation of the fabric ? 

Promote, then, as an object of primary importance, institutions for 
the general diffusion of knowledge. In proportion as the structure of 
a government gives force to public opinion, it should be enlightened. 

As a very important source of strength and security, cherish public 
credit. One method of preserving it is to use it as sparingly as possi- 
ble, avoiding occasions of expense, by cultivating peace, but remember- 
ing, also, that timely disbursements, to prepare for danger, frequently 
prevent much greater disbursements to repel it ; avoiding likewise the 
accumulation of debt, not only by shunning occasions of expense, but 
by vigorous exertions in time of peace to discharge the debts which 
unavoidable wars may have occasioned, not ungenerously throwing 
upon posterity the burden which we ourselves ought to bear. The 
execution of these maxims belongs to your representatives, but it is 
necessary that public opinion should co-operate. To facilitate to them 



584 APPENDIX. 

the performance of their duty, it is essential that you should practically 
bear in mind, that towards the payment of debts there mu?t be reve- 
nue ; that to have revenue, there must be taxes ; that no taxes can be 
devised which are not more or less inconvenient and unpleasant ; that 
the intrinsic embarrassment inseparable from the selection of the pro- 
per objects, (which is always a choice of difficulties,) ought to be a 
decisive motive for a candid construction of the conduct of the govern- 
ment in making it, and for a spirit of acquiescence in the measures for 
obtaining revenue, which the public exigencies may at any time 
dictate. 

Observe good faith and justice towards all nations ; cultivate peace 
and harmony with all. Religion and morality enjoin this conduct ; 
and can it be that good policy does not equally enjoin it ? it will be 
worthy of a free, enlightened, and, at no distant period, a great nation, 
to give to mankind the magnanimous and too novel example of a people 
always guided by an exalted justice and benevolence. Who can doubt 
but, in the course of time and things, the fruits of such a plan woiild 
richly repay any temporary advantages which might be lost by a 
steady adherence to it ; can it be that Providence has not connected 
the permanent felicity of a nation with its virtue ? the experiment, at 
least, is recommended by every sentiment which ennobles human na- 
ture. Alas ! is it rendered impossible by its vices ? 

In the execution of such a plan, nothing is more essential than that 
permanent, inveterate antipathies against particular nations, and pas- 
sionate attachments for others, should be excluded ; and that, in place 
of them, just and amicable feelings towards all should be cultivated. 
The nation which indulges towards another an habitual hatred, or an 
habitual fondness, is in some degree a slave. It is a slave to its ani- 
mosity or to its affection, either of which is sufficient to lead it astray 
from its duty and its interest. Antipathy in one nation against another, 
disposes each more readily to offer insult and injury, to lay hold of 
sHght causes of umbrage, and to be haughty and intractable when ac- 
cidental or trifling occasions of dispute occur. Hence, frequent col- 
lisions, obstinate, envenomed, and bloody contests. The nation, 
prompted by ill-will and resentment, sometimes impels to war the 
government, contrarj-- to the best calculations of policy. The govern- 
ment sometimes participates in the national propensity, and adopts 
through passion what reason would reject ; at other times, it makes 
the animosity of the nation subservient to projects of hostility, insti- 
gated by pride, ambition, and other sinister and pernicious motives. 
The peace often, sometimes perhaps the hberty, of nations has been 
the victim. 



\ 



WASHINGTON'S FAREWELL ADDRESS. 585 

So, likewise, a passionate attaciiment of one nation for another pro- 
duces a variety of evils. Sympathy for the favourite nation, facihtat- 
ingthe illusion of an imaginary common interest in cases where no real 
common interest exists, and infusing into one the enmities of the other, 
betrays the former into a participation in the quarrels and wars of the 
latter, without adequate inducements or justification. It leads also to 
concessions to the favourite nation, of privileges denied to others, which 
is apt doubly to injure the nation making the concessions ; by unneces- 
sarily parting with what ought to have been retained: and by exciting- 
jealousy, ill will, and a disposition to retaliate in the parties from 
whom equal privileges are withheld: and it gives to ambitious, corrupted, 
or deluded citizens, who devote themselves to the favourite nation, 
facihty to betray or sacrifice the interests of their own country, with- 
out odium, sometimes even with popularity ; gilding with the appear- 
ances of a virtuous sense of obligation, a commendable deference for 
public opinion, or a laudable zeal for public good, the base or foolish 
compliances of ambition, corruption, or infatuation. 

As avenues to foreign influence in innumerable ways, such attach- 
ments are particularly alarming to the truly enlightened and indepen- 
dent patriot. How many opportunities do they afford to tamper with 
domestic factions, to practise the arts of seduction, to mislead public 
opinion, to influence or awe the public councils ! — such an attachment 
of a small, or weak, towards a great and powerful nation, dooms the 
former to be the satellite of the latter. 

Against the insidious wiles of foreign influence, (I conjure you to 
believe me, fellow citizens,) the jealousy of a free people ought to be 
constantly awake ; since history and ''experience prove, that foreign 
influence is one of the most baneful foes of republican government. 
But that jealousy, to be useful, must be impartial ; else it becomes the 
instrument of the very influence to be avoided, instead of a defence 
against it. Excessive partiality for one foreign nation, and excessive 
dislike for another, cause those whom they actuate to see danger only 
on one side, and serve to veil and even second the arts of influence on 
the other. Real patriots, who may resist the intrigues of the favourite 
are liable to become suspected and odious ; while its tools and dupes 
usurp the applause and confidence of the people, to surrender their 
interests. 

The great rule of conduct for us, in regard to foreign nations, is, in 
extending our commercial relations, to have with them as little politi- 
cal connection as possible. So far as we have already formed engage- 
ments, let them be fulfilled with perfect good faith. Here let us stop. 

Europe has a set of primary interests, which to us have none, or a 
74 



586 APPENDIX. 

very remote relation. Hence, she must be engaged in frequent contro- 
versies, the causes of which are essentially foreign to our concerns. 
Hence, therefore, it must be unwise in us to implicate ourselves, by 
artificial ties, in the ordinary vicissitudes of her pohtics or the ordinary 
combinations and collisions of her friendships or enmities. 

Our detached and distant situation invites and enables us to pursue 
a different course. If we remain one people, under an efficient govern- 
ment, the period is not far off when we may defy material injury from 
external annoyance ; when we may take such an attitude as will cause 
the neutrahty we may at any time resolve upon, to be. scrupulously 
respected ; when belligerent nations, under the impossibility of making 
acquisitions upon us, Avill not lightly hazard the giving us provocation; 
when we may choose peace or war, as our interest, guided by justice, 
shall counsel. 

Why forego the advantages of so peculiar a situation ? why quit 
our own to stand upon foreign ground ? why, by interweaving our des- 
tiny with that of any part of Europe, entangle our peace and pros- 
perity in the toils of European ambition, rivalship, interest, humour, 
or caprice ? 

It is our true policy to steer clear of permanent alliances with any 
portion of the foreign world ; so far, I mean, as we are now at liberty 
to do it ; for let me not be understood as capable of patronizing infi- 
dehty to existing engagements. I hold the maxim no less apphcable 
to public than to private affairs, that honesty is always the best policy. 

I repeat it, therefore, let those engagements be observed in their 
genuine sense. But, in my opinion, it is unnecessary, and would be 
unwise to extend them. 

Taking care always to keep ourselves, by suitable establishments, 
on a respectable defensive posture, we may safely trust to temporary 
alliances for extraordinary emergencies. 

Harmony, and a liberal intercourse with all nations, are recommended 
by policy, humanity, and interest. But even our commercial policy 
should hold an equal and impartial hand ; neither seeking nor grant- 
ing exclusive favours or preferences ; consulting the natural course 
of things ; diffusing and diversifying by gentle means the streams of 
commerce, but forcing nothing ; establishing with powers so disposed, 
in order to. give trade a stable course, to define the rights of our mer- 
chants, and to enable the government to support them, conventional 
rules of intercourse, the best that present circumstances and mutual 
opinion will permit, but temporary, and hable to be from time to time 
abandoned or varied as experience and circumstances shall dictate, 
constantly keeping in view, that it is folly in one nation to look for 



WASHINGTON'S FAREWELL ADDRESS. 587 

disinterested favours from another ; that it must pay with a portion of 
its independence for whatever it may accept under that character ; that 
by such acceptance, it may place itself in the condition of having 
given equivalents for nominal favours, and yet of being reproached with 
ingratitude for not giving more. There can be no greater error than 
to expect, or calculate upon real favours from nation to nation. It is an 
illusion which experience must cure, which a just pride ought to dis- 
card. 

In offering to you, my countrymen, these counsels of an old and af- 
fectionate friend, I dare not hope they will make the strong and lasting 
impression I could wish ; that they will control the usual current of 
the passions ; or prevent our nation from running the course which 
has hitherto marked the destiny of nations ; but if I may even flatter 
myself, that they may be productive of some partial benefit, some oc- 
casional good ; that they may now and then recur to moderate the fury 
of party spirit, to warn against the mischiefs of foreign intrigue, to 
guard against the impostures of pretended patriotism ; this hope will 
be a full recompense for the solicitude for your welfare by which they 
have been dictated. 

How far, in the discharge of my official duties, I have been guided 
by the principles which have been delineated, the public records and 
other evidences of my conduct must witness to you and to the world. 
To myself, the assurance of my own conscience is, that I have, at least, 
believed myself to be guided by them. 

In relation to the still subsisting war in Europe, my proclamation 
of the 22d of April, 1793, is the index to my plan. Sanctioned by your 
approving voice, and by that of your representatives in both houses 
of Congress, the spirit of that measure has continually governed me ; 
uninfluenced by any attempts to deter or di\^t me from it. 

After deliberate examination, with the aid of the best hghts I could 
obtain, I was well satisfied that our country, under all the circumstances 
of the case, had a right to take, and was bound in duty and interest 
to take, a neutral position. Having taken it, I determined, as far as 
should depend upon me, to maintain it with moderation, perseverance, 
and firmness. 

The considerations which respect the right to hold this conduct, it is 
not necessary on this occasion to detail. I will only observe that, ac- 
cording to my understanding of the matter, that right, so far from being 
denied by any of the belligerent powers, has been virtually admitted 
by all. 

The duty of holding a neutral conduct may be inferred, without any 
thing more, from the obhgation which justice and humanity impose 



588 



APPENDIX. 



on every nation, in cases in which it is free to act, to maintain inviolate 
the relations of peace and amity towards other nations. 

The inducements of interest for observing that conduct will best be 
referred to your own reflections and experience. With me, a predomi- 
nant motive has been to endeavour to gain time to our country to settle 
and mature its yet recent institutions, and to progress, without inter- 
ruption, to that degree of strength and consistency which is necessary 
to give it, humanly speaking, the command of its own fortunes. 

Though in reviewing the incidents of my administration, I am un- 
conscious of intentional error ; I am nevertheless too sensible of my 
defects not to think it probable that I may have committed many 
errors. Whatever they may be, I fervently beseech the Almighty to 
avert or mitigate the evils to which they may tend. I shall also carry 
with me the hope that my country will never cease to view them Avith 
indulgence ; and that, after forty-five years of my life dedicated to its 
service, with an upright zeal, the faults of incompetent abilities will 
be consigned to oblivion, as myself must soon be to the mansions of 
rest. 

Relying on its kindness in this as in other things, and actuated by 
that fervent love towards it, which is so natural to a man who views in 
it the native soil of himself and his progenitors for several generations ; 
I anticipate with pleasing expectation that retreat in which I promise 
myself to realize, without alloy, the sweet enjoyment of partaking, in 
the midst of my fellow citizens, the benign influence of good laws under 
a free government— the ever favourite object of my heart, and the 
happy reward, as I trust, of our mutual cares, labours, and dangers. 




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